Najia Okeke's Story

As Mollem moved on from Giles, he was replaced by another.

Najia wasn't from around these parts, and in fact hailed all the way from northern Hafirjan. She was here on matters of work with Rubano Malijin, but he had told her to take the afternoon off. Given her work back in northern Hafirjan in spreading education and awareness for the less fortunate, it seemed fitting that she would find herself at a local charity event here in Wing City.

Truthfully the city lacked the touch of true poverty that was rampant in Hafirjan, but that did not make the plight of their homeless any less worthy of care or attention.

She smiled warmly as she shook Giles' hand.

"It is said that the character of a man is defined by his treatment of those that can give him nothing in return," she told him. "I will be watching your campaign with much interest." Her words were heavily accented, and she struggled with her th's as they typically came out closer to d's, and though her grammar was passable, it was well apparent that it was not her native tongue.

The old man was almost surprised. Many familiar faces had entered the room, many of which he could name. He had expected the event to be smaller. It was a pleasant thought, however. Perhaps his hopes of winning the election were not so far away at this time like he had suspected.

Giles gave Mollem’s hand a tight shake, a friendly smile given to him. “Thank you, thank you. I’m not too well known just yet, but I’m climbing the ranks slowly. Also, we appreciate your donation to the Funds Against Famine.” He gave him a nod, but found himself facing yet another person as the man went to take his seat. Before he could even ask who he was.

“But who could ignore these people, most of who’ve had their homes taken away in such an unforgiving fashion? Any true citizen of Wing City would understand. Nevertheless, thank you. May I ask, what is your name? You are from Hafirjan, am I correct?”

Meanwhile, Ariel gave Leaf a look of genuine loathing. She jammed her thumb in the direction of Giles. “That way, if you want the old man. You can keep the card. Really,” she rumbled, hands clasped behind her back. Everything about her was telling Leaf to move on. “You can give him the papers yourself.”

Najia smiled warmly that Giles had picked out her place of origins so easily.

"That I am," she replied. "My name is Najia Okeke. But please do not let me keep you from everyone else," she added. "It was a pleasure to meet you Mr. Fabron."

It was a cold winter night in the city of Van Leugen, the skies smoggy and glutted, the moon a pale sliver misting through the distant clouds. There was a light snowfall, the pattering flakes adding quiet layers of white to the already blanketed streetways bellow. Van Leugen had already seen two blizzards in the last month. The city was frozen to its roots.

Of course, none of this mattered to the attendees of the Western-Terra Parliamentary Debates. Nestled in the grand ball rooms of the Remmington Aramill Arts Atria, the opulent audiences of the latest electoral installment were enclosed from the cold and callous exterior of Van Leugen's harsh cityscape in the warmth and luxury of one of the city's finest accommodating penthouses and swankiest theatre centers.

As it was, the crowds were just beginning to take their seats after an hour of mingling and drinking. Though technically a formal, officiated event, the TNG had given full logistical and creative freedom to the various hosts of the many Parliamentary debates. Van Leugen had taken charge of the Western debates (more specifically, the Van Leaugen aristocracy) and no party was complete in Van Leugen without a little... sin. Drinks were served. Fine music played in the background. Gorgeous women in tempting dresses paraded around the grand ballrooms, flirting and talking with the various Leugen big-shots. Indeed, at first glance, the occasion would seem more of a classy party than a debate between electoral-hopefuls.

A large stage with four podiums was at the forefront of the audience. An older-looking man in a sharp suit ascended the stairs, microphone in hand.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he smiled, "my name is Joran Davrell, and it is my honor to be the host and moderator of this year's Western Parliamentary Debates." A smattering of applause followed. "Thank you. I'm very pleased to introduce to you the candidates for this year's parliamentary elections. Though they hail from various regions across Terra, they are united by the ideals of democracy, liberty and justice, the very same virtues that have guided the Terran National Government since its conception."

The NPA officer cleared his throat. "We have three candidates appearing before you today. Though they are not competing directly against one another, the viewpoints and ideas they espouse tonight will be broadcast across the globe. These are the Western debates; the chance for candidates from across the hemispheres to bare their political philosophies against their peers from other respective domestic regions. So, without too much further pomp, I will briefly introduce our candidates and then summon them up their podiums."

"First, hailing from over the ocean from Gonthar, we have Victor Vidal. A Leftist, Mr. Vidal has a rich history in media and is a formerly renown reporter and journalist for TerraCast. He supports a domestically-secure Terra, particularly in economic and educational matters. As far as diplomacy goes, Mr. Vidal leans more towards a diplomatically-isolated planet, believing that many of Terra's past intergalactic dealings have not been to her benefit. He believes that domestic affairs should be handled foremost, foreign affairs second. He is a staunch supporter of civil rights, and he is joined tonight by his secretary, whose name is ((WHATTHEFUCKSOKKAWHERESYOURFUCKINGSECRETARYHOLYSHITIWILLEATYOURLIMBS)), and what a lovely name it is."

The audience applauded.

"We find a stark opposite from Mr. Vidal in our very own Chloe Anne McGregor. Raised right here in Van Leugen, Ms. McGregor is a Center-Rightist who hopes to turn Terra's attention towards domestic threats to security, particularly the various terrorist and insurgent factions that plague the planet. She hopes to work closely with the various ministries of the Terran National Government and legitimize its administrative offshoots as best she can. Diplomatically, Ms. McGregor is particularly open-minded, favoring continuing relations and strengthened alliance with various intergalactic nations. She is joined tonight by her secretary, Ms. Sydney Forte."

Another round of applause.

"Last, but certainly not least, we have Mr. Rubano Malijin. A veteran Parliamentary Chairman, Mr. Malijin is a Center-Rightist who favors a strong domestic military and powerful economic reform. As the author of the Xenia Compromise, Mr. Malijin firmly believes in the power of intergalactic diplomacy, though he remains a strong advocate of Terran self-sufficiency and internal cultural authority. He is joined by his secretary Najia Okeke."

"Now, will the candidates please assume their positions at the podiums?"

The audience would rise to their feet and applaud the candidates as they took their seats.

Victor walked to his seat as he listened to the announcer speak. He had been studying his talking points all afternoon deciding on what he wanted to spend most of his time on in the debate and what areas he would attempt to avoid. He knew his strengths were in foregin relations so he planned to clarify his stance on what his position for Terra was.

For the most part Victor felt that this debate would be unlike the average debates and this posed an interesting event for him. This setting would serve to solidify the future. Victor though a firm believer in his values and his beliefs, also wanted to show the Terran people that he was capable of compromise. He knew that often political parties were seen to be dead set against one another but Victor believed that sometimes a necessary truth, he also wanted to portray a sense of bipartisanship.

As He walked onto the stage he waved to the audience before moving to his seat.

Chloe sat with her small entourage of people at a table situated slightly to the front and center of the room, close to the stage. Seated with her was her secratery, and a few Van Leugen big shots. Handshakes were exchanged amongst them, and Chloe sent a quick text message to an unknown, but clearly Aschen number.

"Alright, let's roll." She said, standing up from her seat and approaching the podium, taking her position behind the Podium, and checking the text of her phone one last time as it vibrated with a barely audible buzz.

"From: 877-(34)-4122-34221
Gotcha, I'll wire some cubits to you in the morning. Best of luck to you."

The phone was quickly pocketed, and Chloe placed both her hands on the podium, politely and quietly waiting. She offered a wave to the audience, many of whom were Van Leugen big shots here to support her. One could say she had the home field advantage.

"Ice queen." Leaf mumbled, shaking his head, putting the card back into his backpocket and approaching Giles, rifling though the papers and finding the right page before passing it off. "Excuse me, sir. Just some minor updates and amendments to some of the events guests, some of them you might find interesting." Leaf would try and pass the sheet of paper over to the politician.

Leaf would turn to respectfully Najia and nod. This was a far cry from his business. The Aschen weren't even allowed in his old workplace, but everything had to the change for the best, right? Right.

Leaf could hope.

"The pleasure is all mine," replied the old politician to her. "Enjoy the dinner, Miss Okeke."

As Leif approached him, the Giles turned his attention around. "Yes? Leaf, I'm not sure this is the time, but..." He took the paper and looked it over quickly, getting the general idea. He wasn't quite sure what could be so urgent.

After shaking the hand of his secretary, Rubano assumed his position at the podium. He easily towered over the other candidates, his imposing physique dwarfing his pulpit. Despite his daunting frame, Rubano remained as cheerful and warm as ever, smiling grandly at the audience and waiving.

Joran smiled as the candidates took his seats. "Welcome all. We'll begin immediately. I'm going to ask all of you a series of questions focused on highlighting your political philosophies and authoritative intentions should you take office. You will each be given a turn to answer these questions, uninterrupted. After each question, there will be a five-minute open response period during which you may freely expound upon your answers and critique and offer counter-arguments to your fellow candidate's answers. For the turn-response, we will proceed in the order in which I called you: Mr. Vidal, Ms. McGregor, Mr. Malijin. Once you've all answered, you are free to debate one another out of turn until I call the five minutes."

Joran removed a series of flashcards from his jacket. "Now then. The first question..." He smiled, "...and one that is very near to my heart..."

"What is your position on federal paranormal policy on Terra? Should supernaturals be forced to register with the state? Should formerly convicted paranormals who have completed their sentencing be given the same privileges as non-supernatural ex-convicts?"

Victor Smiled and and listened to the question. "I Believe this is a very important question but first let me say thank you for hosting this event I believe we can answer many of the questions that weigh on the public mind. Terra is so diverse and the issue arising from paranormal abilities is a tough one. Though there would be some benefit to the registration of paranormal's I feel that by forcing registration would be a firm violation of ones personal rights. Though I am in favor of offering an optional clause of identifying on a census record. "

" Convicts that have used their abilities to commit crimes on the other hand I feel need to be kept registered and classified as paranormal depending on the level of their crime. Though of course this information would need to be placed as classified to law enforcement only as to not harm the employment chances against these people. " When Victor Finished he looked to Chloe and nodded. "Ms. McGregor I'm sure you have some insights on this matter as well." He said kindly passing the theoretical torch onto her.

Chloe offered a soft and rather disarming smile to Victor. It was the same smile that her father often offered to people when he wanted to condescend or lull them into a false sense of security. It was the smile that perhaps said this politician didn't know her field, or was perhaps young and naieve.

The blonde thought for a few moments, a long silent pause as she considered her response to Victor's Proposition.

"Paranormals..." She thought to herself

"Mr. Vidal, I respectfully disagree." Were the only words out of the blonde for several moments.

"If you went to a gun store and bought a gun, doesn't the law stipulate that you register the firearm and submit to a background check?" She said, moving onto her next statement. "Paranormals, Magic Users, and other... unorthodox individuals might make up the backbone of society in your part of Terra, but here, in Therrier-Paix, and especially Van Leugen, we make every effort to keep tabs on those with supernatural abilities. Through a rigorous background check system, and registration of their 'powers' and abilities just as if they purchased a firearm." She said, clearing her throat.

"Paranormals committing crimes are subject to much stricter punishments in accordance with the laws of the TNG, because given their extraordinary abilities, they have a responsibility to use them with discretion, and committing crimes with powers that give you an edge over the average human are disgusting, which is why, as Parliament I will vow to push for stricter regulations for paranormals across all of Terra, in the spirit of strengthening domestic security, and preventing the superpowered slug fests that you see in Wing City, from spreading."

She took a brief sip of water. "To sum it up, Abuse of paranormal and magical abilities should not be tolerated by any level of government, and a system should be maintained to keep tabs on all Paranormal beings not as a matter of prejudice, but a matter of public safety."

She turned to Rubano, and nodded. "Do you have anything to offer, Mr. Malijin?"

Rubano smiled grandly. "Thank you, Ms. McGregor. As Mr. Vidal eloquently put, I am also honored to be here before you this evening."

He cleared his throat. "I think there is a plausible middle-ground between the viewpoints of Ms. McGregor and Mr. Vidal. On one hand, forced registration of unconvicted supernatural citizens could potentially be an immense violation of personal privacy. On the other hand, their innate abilities and powers do impose an implicit responsibility on such citizens. As Ms. McGregor said, we require citizens with firearms to register with the state. So why are superhumans, with abilities and powers that are often far more lethal and dangerous than your standard hand pistol, exempt from similar registration?" He raised a stern finger. "Still, we must remember: these people are not weapons. They are Terran citizens; sentient beings endowed with all the same liberties and freedoms as any other man or woman, and as such, may be given the same chances and opportunities. Thus, I would propose, as Mr. Vidal has argued, to not require forced registration for unconvicted superhumans. So long as paranormal citizens continue to show that they can use their gifts responsibly, I see no reason to keep tabs on them." He cleared his throat. "Similarly, I would (If re-elected) impose registration on superhumans convicted of crimes of any nature in which they've used their powers to enable their nefarious activity. This could be as minor as using their telekinesis to vandalize public property or as serious as using their pyromancy in an intended arson." He smiled, nodding at Joran. "I would also push for more funding to be sent to the brave men and women who protect Terra from explicitly malicious individuals, supernatural or no. I understand that local police forces and NPA agents alike need to continue to improve their equipment and training to address the ever-dangerous and evolving face of domestic crime. If elected to office, I will ensure that the defenders of Terran liberty will receive the funds they need to continue in their admirable and noble professions."

Each candidate had now addressed the question. Free-debate was now open. Rubano quickly jumped on the chance.

"I do have a question for both of you, Mr. Vidal and Ms. McGregor," he smiled, turning his attention away from the audience and towards his fellow candidates, "Ms. McGregor you mentioned earlier about establishing an 'institution' to oversee domestic security concerning paranormal crime. Exactly what sort of institution to propose to establish for such a job?"

He looked to Victor. "And for you, Mr. Vidal. You've lived in Wing City for quite a while, no? Surely you understand, perhaps better than any of us, the threat that supernatural criminals possess to daily society. Hardly a week goes by without some sort of (as Ms. McGregor put it) 'superpowered slug fest' tearing up the metropolis. Isn't this a sign that the TNG's formerly lax restrictions on federal paranormal law isn't working? Perhaps we need something more... explicit... to evoke serious change."

Victor listened to both of the other candidates speak as he pondered their responses, he wasn't too intrigued by the institution idea but he was was not completely in opposition to a mandate against criminals. Smiling he turned briefly to Rubano

"Mr. Malijin, I will admit that there is a need for serious change but, the perils in wing city do not rest solely on those with paranormal abilities as I am sure we are all aware there are many groups that attack innocent Terrans as well take for example The Hammer and Star Bratva or the rough demon and other hunters that plague the city. The city is clearly in a racial and cultural war, so in a similar way I would not be completely opposed to an agency being created to help stop the conflict between the Paranormal and non-paranormal factions operating within the city and all of Terra. Clearly this issue has grown beyond local law enforcement for criminal acts. I would be interested to hear Ms. McGregor's insight into what type of institutions might be put into place."

The Aschen women nodded slowly, as she considered the proposal for a moment. She shuffled some papers on the podium for a moment, and then she nodded.

"Perhaps we should take a page out of the books of our-- and I use this term loosely, friends beyond the stars. I've studied on Langara for several years in College, and I've discovered that the Aschen Empire's mode of dealing with Paranormals through the creation of specialized agencies is, though heavy handed, very effective. However, we don't live in an Autocracy, and we must work to preserve individual liberties, while providing the utmost in public safety." Chloe explained.

"If elected I'd propose the creation of a specialized, but autonomous law enforcement agency that would answer only to the Ministry of Justice, and work closely with the NPA, and local police departments with relative freedom of movement." She explained.

"A sort of Mythical Crimes Division that would explicitly handle paranormal crimes without the restrictions of regional and provincial boundaries. An Agency that would rely on the creation of special Oversectors, with hand picked Captains that could operate without regard to jurisdiction or provincial boundaries. That they may provide consistent, and effective enforcement across Terra, from Wing City, to Van Leugen, and if possible through Diplomacy, to Narita and Volary."

"Coupled with a database through mandatory registration of Paranormal individuals who wish to use their abilities to better assist enforcement. Registration that's no different than registering for a driver license. You'd need a driver license to operate your car, certainly it'd be reasonable to require one to use your powers. Simply put, registration would only be required if an individual wanted to use their abilities. It'd be a crime for someone to drive without a license, why not make it illegal to use magic without a license? It doesn't infringe on any liberties, after-all, they don't have to register for anything, if they choose not to use their abilities."

"A fair point, Ms. McGregor," Rubano nodded, "though I'm certain there are some who would argue that the use of their powers is far more personal to them than, say, the operation of a motor vehicle. For many citizens, their powers are an innate part of who they are; an integral factor of their character and an expression of their individuality. Licensing their abilities would be like trying to license a man for having red hair or another for being a gifted pianist." Rubano shook his head. "No, I must maintain that registration be required only of citizens that have shown themselves capable of using their crimes for evil purposes, and furthermore..."

"I beg your pardon Mr. Malijin," Joran interceded, "but I'm afraid our five minutes is up. We will proceed to the next question." Rubano smiled and waived for Joran to proceed. Adjusting his reading glasses, the NPA director looked down at another card and read the second question.

"Where do you stand in terms of foreign diplomacy? How should the TNG view its relationship with the Shintenchi nations, and should we continue to try and convince our eastern neighbors to join our government? Should intergalactic relations be strengthened or slackened?"

Victor was glad that the five minutes were up but he was even more pleased that the next topic was turned to foreign relations. "An important question." Victor said. " Terra is in my opinion caught in between many warring and or disagreeing factions though obviously we cannot just turn a blind eye. My personal belief for Terra is to stabilize our relationships with other nations focusing on trade and humanitarian issues. Now I am not talking about a total isolationist approach trade and simple negotiation can be created but we cannot stand by and risk gaining allies and possibly angering other nations that would seek to harm terra. Our military and defense are not up to standards in my personal opinion. We must repair our nation before we begin major diplomatic moves." Victor said.

"The Shintenchi Nations on the other hand are another matter entirely, I believe that we can keep an offer on the table for them to join but they do reserve the right to remain independent nations. The Shintenchi nations are our closest neighbors obviously and we must respect them and their wishes but I think that as we all share this planet a strong diplomatic relationship with these nations is acceptable and in my opinion necessary. "

Chloe pondered the question for a moment, this was an opportunity for her to shine, and provide the answers to further her own political career.

She took another small sip from her glass, before she cleared her throat and looked towards Victor, and then Rubano.

"The only way for us to further diplomacy with any foreign nation is for them to take us seriously, as it stands hardly any foreign government takes us seriously. The TNG has thus far been a joke, rife with corrupt politicians serving their own aims." She explained. Nodding to Victor. "I agree we have much to do before we consider improving relations with foreign nations. The goal would be to prevent further hostilities. Which is why if elected, I plan to push for the renegotiation of the Terran-Aschen Armistice with the Empire and lay down a more permanent peace framework." She said, before she scoffed at Victor's notion of the Shintenchi nations rejoining.

"Do you know the implications of that, Mr. Vidal. You yourself mentioned angering other nations. One of the Shintenchi Nations is little more than a Puppet Government of the Taiyou Empire, and the other two nations are neck deep in Taiyou pockets. Any diplomatic or political tangles with these three nations would obviously be under heavy Taiyou scrutiny. Which is why it's important to solidify relations with the Taiyou Empire, before proceeding with further diplomatic actions in Shintenchi." She said, nodding. "And military annexation is clearly out of the question, since it would be suicide to try and take on the Taiyou Empire."

"I agree that the Terran National Government has had problems with foreign nations in the past, and should exercise caution when dealing with other intergalactic powers," Rubano nodded, "ultimately, however, I feel one of our central problems has been our movement towards isolationism. Time and time again the TNG has issued decrees banning foreign presence on Terran soil and the withdrawal of alien powers, ally or no. In our fierce desire to protect our independence, we have shunned our friends and much of our diplomatic support. Rather than make us stronger, however, this philosophy has only resulted in more war, death, terrorism and bigotry. I hoped that, by creating the Xenia Compromise, we might be able to enjoy the benefits of strong intergalactic ties without sacrificing domestic economy or our cultural heritage. If elected once more, I shall re-visit the Xenia Compromise and consider making amends to it, amends that will allow us to further expand our foreign interest while maintaining our independence." He smiled. "I would also be interested on expanding the TNG's borders beyond Terra, but I suppose that is another topic of conversation."

He cleared his throat and conceded the floor to brief free-debate.

Najia might have passed Alrion by had she not caught the faint whiff of alcohol. A glance towards him betrayed his drunken state even beneath his carefully groomed exterior. She adjusted the shoulder strap of her small satchel and kept on a few steps more.

What was the man to her but a strange drunk idling away the afternoon. She didn't know him, and he was of little consequence to her. Furthermore she had no way to ascertain if he was dangerous or not.

But that wasn't Najia. Najia was a woman driven by compassion. It was far too early in the day for drinking, and he didn't have the look of a homeless man to him. The gardens weren't overly busy, but there were enough people around for her to put concerns of being mugged from her mind.

"Excuse me, Sir," she said finally. "I hope that this is not too forward, but should I call you a cab?" she asked.

Her words were thickly accented, and she struggled with her th's as they typically came out closer to d's, and though her grammar was passable, it was well apparent that it was not her native tongue.

Alrion's sour-face expression rose to address this woman who had so boldly address him with a look that almost certainly was intended to shoo her off. "Not unless you're planning on taking it yourself," he answered dryly, "I have no intent to go anywhere. Certainly there is no 'home' of which to return to." Almost as if taking a suddenly swerve of ideas he rose from his seat, planting one hand firmly on the slats of the wooden bench to shove himself upright.

"You may wish to duck," he informed her, an odd piece of information in itself as his right arm rose out to the side. Swooping behind her was a bird rather literally wreathed in flames, talons stretched out and returning to its master. However his arm was considerably lower than Najia's head, and the bird cared little for things getting in its way, probably a reflection of its owner. Alrion's tone was not mocking nor threatening despite his bitter mood. Despite all things he still had a degree of nicety in him. He took measures to guide the bird aside her, better towards his arm than her skull.

Najia grabbed her arm as the tailons grazed against her shoulder, and the flurry of feathers brought her other hand up to protect her face in surprise.

Her surprise turned to a spark of anger as the bird alighted upon Alrion's arm.

"Pardon me for being concerned," the woman replied indignantly. "And surely you do not intend to simply remain here forever," she added.

He may not be lying in the gutter stinking of alcohol, but he was sitting on a public bench, plainly drunk in the still yet early hours of the day. The image he had sought to escape was settling over him all the same. Polishing off the exterior could do little to change the facts of the situation.

Alrion seemed more busy with his bird than anything. It was a brightly coloured thing, of yellow and red plumage and an upright almost pompous stance to it. If it were not for the fact that this was clearly a predator sporting large talons and a sharp beak, it may have looked like a creature of show, like a peacock. He brushed his knuckles along its breast as he spoke back, "You may consider yourself pardoned," he answered, eyes flicking to her for a moment, "And I do not. But I'm rather lacking motivation to move." His words were back to their initial rude tone as he reached into a small pouch to retrieve beef jerky to feed his pet, which snapped it up immediately.

"Humour me," finally remembering his manners he spoke, "Who are you to offer help so freely to those you find in the park?"

"I am Najia," she replied. "And where I come from there are a lot more than drunks in the park in need of assistance. It is what I do," she explained.

There was still a sharpness to her tongue, but given that the man was drunk she seemed somewhat forgiving of his rudeness for the moment.

"However if you wish to remain here, then I will leave you to it," she added.

She couldn't make the man move if he didn't want to move. All she could do was offer to get him home to sober up; though, from his words it sounded like perhaps he had recently lost his home?

He stood, not at attention, but ready all the same, watching her expectantly. In truth he was waiting for her to leave so he could annoyingly follow; half with the intent to annoy and half with the lack of anything to do and seeking just some sort of help. A silent plea that would not be noted of his face or features.

"Do the drunks where you come from want to stay in the parks?" he asked with eyes half-lidded and an arm starting to ache from holding up the bird so long.

"Being a victim of the habit tells me not, but then I'm a rich vagabond living off of wealth he didn't earn so what do I know of other wretches." Drunkenness lead to that oxymoron of words. Also pompous distaste of other drunks.

"Where I come from, drunks are the least of worries," she remarked. "If you will not take a cab, then at least go home and sober up before you wind up mugged or worse."

Wing City wasn't exactly known for its warm and fuzzy atmosphere, and unlike most drunks lounging around the city, Alrion looked to actually be a man of wealth. A potential target for would be thieves and scoundrels.