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Hnn, all right then, lets go.

*shuffling off towards the igloo opening, the pair could do a last minute check before having the cake delivered. Napkins, cutlery, glasses, etc... they'd all be looked after. Nana could only wonder what the children would think about this huge dome of snow. Even Nana had never seen an igloo this big before*

Mastema and Nana would likely do nothing more than decide on seating types and what else should be brought in. All in all, the two would spend no more than fifteen minutes on the menial task.

Slayer let off another puff before continuing to walk past Yuri, to lead him away from where he was likely to get shot. "Well, several things are happening today, to be sure, but there's little event in the garden in the west going on later today. You saw the three young children at the sparring matches as spectators, yes? Well, today happens to be their second birthday. So yes, when you saw them, they were little more than a year old."

That should just about do it then. Shall we start to call everyone in then?

*Fifteen minutes was pleanty of time for Thanatos and the children to have gone to the cafeteria and started breakfast. Not too much longer and they'd likely be done it aswell. They could be called upon at any time to come to the Peace. Then chatting, playing, and festivities could begin for everyone. Perhaps Sho would cut the cake in the same manor he had at last years party. Much had gone on durring those long ten months since that sparring match, so there was pleanty to speak about aswell*

Yuri would hesitate for a moment as Slayer said this, thinking over this one last time before deciding it couldn't hurt to ask. "Well then... Slayer... could I ask you a favor? Obviously I'm not allowed to this event, as I have yet to prove myself trustworthy to Mastema, but I'd like to give something to one of the children. Could you give it to him for me?" he asked softly, not wanting to impose, but remembering his earlier encounter with Eecheb and wanting to give the kid a present for some reason. A part of this might be because he couldn't remember his own childhood, so he felt as though he could make up for this slightly by making someone else's childhood slightly, perhaps even insignificantly, better. Or not. Who really knew? Yuri sure as hell didn't know what he was thinking....

If Mastema had seismic sensors capable of noting mining disruptions within 70 miles of his border, he would be accutely aware of the operations taking place in the HQ there. The ground was once more being ravaged, torn up deeply and widely by machines. Atop the hole was a covering, much akin to a tent. Amongst the variety of devices in place for electronic warfare and the arcane methods of blocking scans, there was additionally a few inches worth of lead panelling along the ceiling of the cover. Just to keep out any pesky X-ray vision, even as the construction of this secret item continued. The bots were of course assembled around the field HQ with the other units.

KB sighed to himself and glanced jealously at the stars, longing for the simple joys of attending dining and dancing. His leatherbound hand dancing over the datapad in front of him in the cold air wasn't his idea of fun. He couldn't digest coffee, and though he didn't feel the cold directly, his sensors were accutely aware of the temperature at all times. He mumbled to himself as he reviewed the plans for his latest toys, glancing over his shoulder on occasion in pointless suspicion.

Something just seemed amiss. Likely something of Tegral's doing, though perhaps it was a matter of Sai and Focht. Priority shifts in the Cradle from his cloning developements to finding the late Zenogais seemed a bit odd to him. "New batch." He muttered idly, smirking as his HUD verified the order. Somewhere within the shining confines of the Cradle many tubes were being emptied of their cargo, and fresh meat was being procurred.

"If they are curious enough," was Mastema's response to Nana's idea. Truthfully, the idea of building anything out of snow bored him out of his skull, but he doubted the children would really be able to do any kind of recreation that he enjoyed. "I think they will be able to find their own way to amuse themselves........ for better or for worse....."

Slayer put a smug look on his face, twice tapping the end of his pipe on his head. "You don't really expect me to answer that request just on that information alone, do you?" Slayer wasn't out of it enough to just accept a request when he didn't know what gift he was to give.... much less to whom.

Proto, now back at the bottom of the tower, was again working on something only he fully cared about. He seemed to have put aside the incident of the suicidal droid for the moment and was going through Zio's data archives, specifically looking up information on Mastema's 4 observational satellites.

KB left the 'battlefield' hurriedly, the GSF-ensignia upon his pistol gleaming softly in the night as it slid back, then snapped into place. The chambered 'bullet' rested eagerly as he holstered the weapon at his right hip, battle-boots making deep pits into the snow as he moved. His gear was still that of his more combat-orientated nature, something of a soldier's outfit.

The droid army would continue their preparations while he was absent. Furthermore, they would guard the secrecy of the encampment and the mysterious object being constructed there. Mastema would find himself blind to that which rested on his doorstep amongst an army, many units of his own design on their way to becoming a buffer for his forces. New units on board the cradle were in constant supply to enforce it, ready to replace the ranks lost to the snow in the battle to come. Some of the materials were being siphoned by the Admiral's star-faring efforts, building new extensions to the station and new ships with which to traverse space.

In the meantime however KB had only one thing on his mind, the rightful ascension of his genes to their place of rulership in this forgotten era. He sought that which he affectionately referred to as his wife despite their lack of formal union, and of his sons and daughters who had proven to be fruitful investments of both time and energy. Truly this robotic shell felt some stirring for the memories of that family, of Kobei and the children.

He loved them dearly, though in spite of it he couldn't push a certain image from his head. That of Kobei, of her beauty, of her absolutely gorgeous form. It fell upon the backdrop of snow in his sight and haunted him, made him want her. Hopefully he would find her and free her from her life-preserving prison, to unite her and their prodigy in a reign of death and pain. A place for the waking where trials and tribulations were commonplace, where one could not dream forever.

He would drag them to this frozen hell, defile them, and crown them. On the rubble of Mastema's home he would confide in them his thoughts of conquest, in the blood of his foe's family he would bathe them, and in mockery of the fallen's memory he would corrupt them.

It's what fathers are for.