STGOD2k6 Main Thread

[Duckie]

[From Eq Likinarkiroch-Oeq'Khar ROREPRME Eq'Qitneut]
["A History Of The Emperor, Twentieth Of His Line"]

It is said that in the time of the great fox, the Emperor grew profound and looked upon his vizier with great sadness.

"IT IS TIME," he said, speaking with the voice of Kheiztyed, That-Which-May-Not-Be-Disobeyed.

"THE FATED STRUGGLE IS UPON US," said the Emperor, his blue eyes staring down from his throne with sadness to the floor below. "OUR DOMINANCE AS A RACE IS ONCE AGAIN, AS THE CYCLES COMMAND, THREATENED. WE MUST IMMEDIATELY MAKE PREPARATIONS FOR THE TYPHOON WAR TO COME AGAIN."

"ANY MAN WHO SO DOES NOT DO HIS DUTY IS A TRAITOR TO HIS RACE, AND EVIL. KILL HIM WITHOUT HESITATION OR MERCY, AND SHOW NONE TO THE ENEMIES OF YOUR GOD EMPEROR. LET THE UNIVERSE TREMBLE."

"WE MUST PAY THE REVALTH A VISIT. THIS IS THE MANDATED FIRST STEP- OUR PROPHETS DEMAND THIS."

The Vizier fell upon his face and worshipped the Emperor.

"By your command, Righteous Leader, it shall be done."

=================================
[Audio Recording, Imperial Throne Room, Monau-Ra]
[Supressed Historical Archives]

A High, Lilting Voice: "Some catastrophe has befallen. We must visit these Pfhor, Ak. They shall know, as they have known the last time."

Deeper Voice: "By your command, Righteous Leader, it shall be done."
==================================

With a few twistings of Spacetime, something unimaginably bulky was produced from space, which is comparatively emptier and less filled to the brim with energy weapons.

That something was a mighty fleet. An entire third of the Imperial Fleet itself had been dispatched to the capital planet of the mighty Pfhor Empire, complete with an Imperial Govenor, to speak as plenipotentiary representative of the entirety of the Khar Imperium.

Sadly, the Pfhor Empire didn't exist anymore.

This was rather inconvenient for the fleet, which basically milled about the uninhabited system for several weeks before returning home so that it didn't look so bad of a failure.

However, one of the small Point-Defense Frigates accompanying it was a member of the picket guard. Jumping to minor systems in the Empire, the Frigates would gather intelligence and leave.

By sheer chance, the LKLR Tertn'Naut'Qedti Nyu-Oeq'Tertser ["Assured Eternal Victory Of The Great Race"] jumped into Ulhoun [Pfhor spelling- Lho'owwon], a supposedly minor Pfhor Imperial system.

Alone.

[Spyder]

"We're being followed."

"We're almost there, find out what they want."

Another transmission was sent...
"Is there something we can do for you, Basilaerus?"

A small field of rogue asteroids was ahead.
"All hands, set condition one and prepare for FTL jump."
The Artemis remained behind cover, silently waiting for its scouts to return.

[Dahak]

To the far galactic east (ooc: Falal'un), the destroyer Highborn was sent, with instructions to drop out of subspace five-lightyears from the nearest inhabited world and initiate contact.

The sensitive listening posts near the emerging ship picked it up soon after it had rematerialised in normal space. Netherspace sensors gathered as much information as they could, inverse visuaports were relaying the picture of it back to the Council.
No possible invader could be so stupid to send just one little ship, or so it was assumed by Fleet Council. A Visuaport was transmitted. It simply appeared before the destroyer, letters the size of skyscrapers and of a very aggressive red. "Unidentified craft, you are allowed to enter the space of this system. Proceed to the outer moon of the sixth planet," the letters read.

[SirNitram]

To the northeast (ooc: Hekartes), the Great Reclaimer was sent, with similar such instructions.

Entering Hekartes space was somewhat like descending into a thick fog in an atmosphere; the whole sector was a mess of debris, nebulae, and navigational hazards. The worlds within were well hidden, but it also made getting out of the 'soup' very difficult.

Orbitting the world the Reclaimer was dispatched to was a rather insignifigant space station, mostly serving as a trading post. Without it, one would assume the system had no spacefaring culture; the planet below held only signs of stone age hunter-gatherers. In fact, on first glance, the station was too damaged to support anyone..

But a quick, cursory scan proved it to be operational despite what should be crippling gashes in it's hull. It began hailing the arriving ship, seeking the right frequency and language as it cycled through the message..

'Greetings. We welcome you to the Hekartes protection sphere. We hope your trading will be profitable and your journeys fufilling. Approach at sublight speed with weapons powered down to dock.'

[Companion Cube]

It took very little time for the anomalous contact to be detected by LPGNCOM's FTL sensor arrays, tasked to monitor the limited traffic to and from Gd'nar. Shortly afterwards, the presence of the alien vessel was picked up by civilian and corporate security listening posts, from which the information diffused to virtually every alert sensors officer in the system.

A cloud of LPGN recon drones sped towards the target from the nearest military outpost, followed by a swarm of their privately-owned analogues, jostling for the optimum approach vector.

[Thirdfain]

ICNS Admiral Stevanaphulis
System Edge
Shearwater/Kreshay Quatriem
Silver Flame Territory

The battlecruiser Admiral Stevanaphulis exploded out of otherspace in a shower of hideously dangerous radiation over an AU from the planet of Shearwater. Her sister vessels followed suit immediately. Each of the long-hulled battlecruisers sported a nasty array of heavy guns, well suited for ripping capital ships to peices, along with powerful engines designed to ensure escape from anything too large to defeat with firepower.

Sensors immediately began to scour every inch of the system. It didn't take long to detect the powerful array of warships.

A communicatrice line sent every peice of data back to the main fleet.

---------------------------

ICNS Basilaerus
Silver Flame Territory

"The greater Kreshayan region is under Crobuzon Imperial blockade for crimes against the property, citizens and honor of the Parliamentary Empire. All vessels are required to heave to for identification. Commerce in this region is suspended for the duration of hostilities. Identify yourselves immediately."

Lil signalled one of her officers.

"Ms. Coldvin, I want the main guns loaded and torpedos prepped for launch. All sunspears are to be at full charge."

Needless to say, general quarters had been called hours ago.

[Lancer]

To the far galactic east (ooc: Falal'un), the destroyer Highborn was sent, with instructions to drop out of subspace five-lightyears from the nearest inhabited world and initiate contact.

The sensitive listening posts near the emerging ship picked it up soon after it had rematerialised in normal space. Netherspace sensors gathered as much information as they could, inverse visuaports were relaying the picture of it back to the Council.
No possible invader could be so stupid to send just one little ship, or so it was assumed by Fleet Council. A Visuaport was transmitted. It simply appeared before the destroyer, letters the size of skyscrapers and of a very aggressive red. "Unidentified craft, you are allowed to enter the space of this system. Proceed to the outer moon of the sixth planet," the letters read.

The moon specified was a relatively short hyperdrive jump away. After notifying FleetCom via a brief databurst, the Highborn emerged from subspace into a stable orbital position above the moon, broadcasting a simple confirmation message and waited patiently for further contact.

To the northeast (ooc: Hekartes), the Great Reclaimer was sent, with similar such instructions.

Entering Hekartes space was somewhat like descending into a thick fog in an atmosphere; the whole sector was a mess of debris, nebulae, and navigational hazards. The worlds within were well hidden, but it also made getting out of the 'soup' very difficult.

Orbitting the world the Reclaimer was dispatched to was a rather insignifigant space station, mostly serving as a trading post. Without it, one would assume the system had no spacefaring culture; the planet below held only signs of stone age hunter-gatherers. In fact, on first glance, the station was too damaged to support anyone..

But a quick, cursory scan proved it to be operational despite what should be crippling gashes in it's hull. It began hailing the arriving ship, seeking the right frequency and language as it cycled through the message..

'Greetings. We welcome you to the Hekartes protection sphere. We hope your trading will be profitable and your journeys fufilling. Approach at sublight speed with weapons powered down to dock.'

A short hyperdrive diagnosis was performed to determine why exiting hyperlaunch had sent the Great Reclaimer a full five lightyears from the intended point of reemergence. Nothing was wrong with the hyperdrive, so after a short scan by one of the navigational sensor array, the discrepancy was attributed to the unusual nature of Hekartes space.

At the same time, the ship seemed to drift into one of the stations docking ports with ease, evading the larger pieces of debris with almost imperceptible course corrections, while smaller detritus simply bounced off the hull-conforming shields with no ill effects. Once the ship was securely docked, a small contingent of officers and escorts exited into the station.

[Spyder]

ICNS Admiral Stevanaphulis
System Edge
Shearwater/Kreshay Quatriem
Silver Flame Territory

The battlecruiser Admiral Stevanaphulis exploded out of otherspace in a shower of hideously dangerous radiation over an AU from the planet of Shearwater. Her sister vessels followed suit immediately. Each of the long-hulled battlecruisers sported a nasty array of heavy guns, well suited for ripping capital ships to peices, along with powerful engines designed to ensure escape from anything too large to defeat with firepower.

Sensors immediately began to scour every inch of the system. It didn't take long to detect the powerful array of warships.

A communicatrice line sent every peice of data back to the main fleet.

---------------------------

ICNS Basilaerus
Silver Flame Territory

"The greater Kreshayan region is under Crobuzon Imperial blockade for crimes against the property, citizens and honor of the Parliamentary Empire. All vessels are required to heave to for identification. Commerce in this region is suspended for the duration of hostilities. Identify yourselves immediately."

Lil signalled one of her officers.

"Ms. Coldvin, I want the main guns loaded and torpedos prepped for launch. All sunspears are to be at full charge."

Needless to say, general quarters had been called hours ago.

"As you wish. My name's Doug, this is my flight group. Now, who did you say you were again, and why are you attacking this system?" He switched back to his local channel.

"Combat landings."

The flighters cut thrust and nimbly dissapeared behind one of the larger asteroids.

[SirNitram]

At the same time, the ship seemed to drift into one of the stations docking ports with ease, evading the larger pieces of debris with almost imperceptible course corrections, while smaller detritus simply bounced off the hull-conforming shields with no ill effects. Once the ship was securely docked, a small contingent of officers and escorts exited into the station.

Inside the station was no grand diplomatic greeting party, no celebrations, no entourages. It was a bazaar; a trading meet, between what looked like a handful of species. The most strange, however, were some of the humans. While in some places it was in vogue to wear the 'traditional garb' of one's home, no place is likely to have such as the voluminous robes of a desert nomad, as he talks to a man in what are clearly animal skins. They seem to be bickering over the price of water shipments.

It is, all in all, a strange place. While a few places sell high tech goods, most have only the simplest of things, and plenty of places selling exotic and plain foodstuffs. The newcomers get only a few glances, but are regarded as just more traders so far.

[Duckie]

It took very little time for the anomalous contact to be detected by LPGNCOM's FTL sensor arrays, tasked to monitor the limited traffic to and from Gd'nar. Shortly afterwards, the presence of the alien vessel was picked up by civilian and corporate security listening posts, from which the information diffused to virtually every alert sensors officer in the system.

A cloud of LPGN recon drones sped towards the target from the nearest military outpost, followed by a swarm of their privately-owned analogues, jostling for the optimum approach vector.

A short transmission of greeting was given in horribly broken, misaccented, and scent-markerless Pfhor language from 1100 years ago. This was done despite the fact that nobody in the Khar Imperium spoke Pfhor, so it was entirely incomprehensable. It was the equivalent of a Pakistani from Old Earth trying to give a greeting to a Scotsman in Ancient Proto-IndoEuropean.

There was a vague pause as nobody on the other side understood what the hell the Khar ship was trying to say.

Then the Khar Ship, apparantly unfazed, began transmitting the same message in slightly more grammatical, if still informal, GalStandard West. The tone was generally upbeat, energetic, and the enthusiam was obviously completely faked to the non-tone deaf among the Pfhor.

"Greetings, Salutations, and General Required Niceties, Honored Pfhor. This is the LKLR NST-42, Tert'Naut'Qedti Nyu-Eq'Tertser. We come in considerable amounts of peace, unless the need for violence be established. In which case we bring copious amounts of awesome weaponry.

However, we repeat that our only desire is to meet with you, despite... unfortunate... incidents in the both legend-past and the recent past, and wish to catch up with old aquaintances. Already, an Imperial Representative and several ships have arrived at quite a few other worlds in your vast empire's territory.

..."

There was a vague pause and some shuffling of papers over the frequency. A few mumblings of vague jabberings in the Khar Holy Tongue about something being missing.

"... um... right... Ah! here we go"

"If this is unacceptable to you, we apologize with intruding upon your nest and shall depart in peace if we are let to do so.

We await your response."

[Spyder]

Hekartes Trade Post

"They're a long way from home." One of the unshaven men said as the rest of his gathering watched the newcomers enter the station. The small group resumed their private conversation before being noticed.

"Concord?"

"Concord doesn't come here, this isn't one of their charges. Besides, they don't look like cops."

"They're definately from somewhere else. Let's keep an eye on them, see what happens."

One of them turns around and makes a guesture to another man standing on the other side of the bazaar, who nods in compliance.

[Thirdfain]

ICNS Basilaerus
Silver Flame Territory

"This is the Imperial Crobuzon Navy Ship Basilaerus and you are within the territory of a nation with which we are at war."

She nodded to an officer, killing the feed for a second with a deft motion of her thumb. "Target the asteroid."

"Heave too now, joker, or face the consequences. Come out where I can see you."

[Spyder]

Silver Flame Territory

Dead silence was the response. A moment before, as Lil got up to the word "Navy" a dull energy surge might have been detected depending on the strength of the Basilaerus' sensors vs the density of the asteroid.

Some would perhaps get the impression that "Doug" wasn't really interested in the answer to his question after all.

[Lancer]

The Avalonian contingent on the Hekarte trade station was conspicuously out of place. Wrapped around their torsos were vests, metallic strips studded along regular intervals with small amber gems resting above the ribbing on each shoulder. The officers and crew were wearing white uniforms consisting of a tunic and trousers. Accompanying their uniforms were long, rigid metallic cuffs similarly studded with larger amber gems, and enamel-colored headbands with a modest and slightly luminescent emerald in the center. At their hips were belts with several small pouches, including holsters housing sleek but well-crafted pistols. They moved swiftly and silently, islands of calm in the animated crowd.

One of the crew reached into one such pouch on his belt and withdrew several small, spherical objects. Seemingly of their own volition, they floated close to the ceiling. After hovering there until all the spheres had become level with eachother, they darted around; mapping the interior of the station and giving the Avalonian explorers an idea of the composition of the inhabitants.

[Companion Cube]

With a tightbeam command from HQ, the military drones froze out comms for the accompanying civilian models, in one case by means of laser. A quick, pre-packaged message was dispatched to all involved, citing systemic security concerns and offering dire retaliatory action if any non-government-sanctioned craft were to approach the alien vessel. Doubtless this would outrage various members of the Plenum.

After a diplomatically awkward time-lag gap, a radio transmission reached the Khar vessel.

Diplomatic transmission
origin: LPGNCOM
destin: LKLR Tertn'Naut'Qedti Nyu-Oeq'Tertser
ref: contact
stamp: placate

This is acceptable to us. Our eagerness to make contact is exceeded only by our desire to maintain a state of amiability between our powers. Please proceed to these [attached 090912] coordinates within the system. A list of interplanetary traffic lanes has been provided; these will be cleared if necessary.

[Thirdfain]

ICNS Basilaerus
Silver Flame Territory

Captain Lil ksa Shraik's charge was moderately well armed, but the Tarmuth class was gun-heavy. The ship's "A" battery, four medium antiship guns in two casements with a 90-degree forward's firing arc was supplemented by B and C, each of which consisted of four light dual-purpose cannon suitable for wounding enemy cruisers or escorts or shooting down fighters in a pinch. Four torpedo tubes fixed in the bow added to her short-range punch.

"Ms. Coldvin, Batteries A, B, and C may open fire. Tubes 1 and 2 may launch fish immediately."



The Basilaerus' autoloaders had already laid their deadly charges into firing position, and difference engines had already calculated precise paths for the thaumaturgically accelerated puissant shells. The response by the gun crews was immediate.

A wave of explosions ripped into the heart of the asteroid. Had the rock consisted of military-grade composites fortified under layers of shielding, the attack might have been less effective. However, the standard chunk of nickel-iron and airless rock gave way under the assault, fragmenting into a dozen large peices and hundreds of blast-accelerated chunks of debris.

[Spyder]

Silver Flame Territory

The asteroid pieces spread out in all directions. As the path become clear there was no sign of the fighter group, or any other ship amongst the expanding rock and dust.

Meanwhile, far beyond STL range the crew of the Artemis were winding down from condition one.

"Jump successful, no further contacts."

In the landing bay, the Pyres were being carted into maintenance for refueling and inspection by the deck gang. The pilots, having already dismounted and checked in their flight gear were ready to return to quarters, except for the Colonel, who was required elsewhere.

"Interesting little performance out there," the Captain spoke in the cold authoritive tone that most Captains tend to speak in, "I am somewhat concerned that you and your pilots managed to stray that close to an alien warfleet. Any thoughts on that?"

"They were advancing in our direction, there's no way we could have gotten out of that situation without breaking EmCon. Trying to glide our way past presented a calculated risk to my pilots that I wasn't prepared to make, sir."

"I see, well all in all, all birds landed safely and the jump proceeded without incident. Keeping your persuer talking instead of shooting was inventive, although I wouldn't except the same trick to work twice. I expect a full report, that will be all for now. Dismissed."

[Dahak]

The moon specified was a relatively short hyperdrive jump away. After notifying FleetCom via a brief databurst, the Highborn emerged from subspace into a stable orbital position above the moon, broadcasting a simple confirmation message and waited patiently for further contact.

Deep inside the moon, a Diviner station took a closer, more thorough look at the ship. The scanners for magic didn't pick anything up, and seemed completely technological. A cursory telepathic scan showed no outright hostile thoughts.
After the ship was finally deemed innocuous, two heavy air cruisers slithered out of Netherspace and positioned themselves to both sides of the smaller ships.
A visuaported message appeared in space before the ship. "You are allowed to proceed to Falau'un Cruinne, the fourth planet in system. Any hostile act will result in your destruction. You will dock Yiin'than station. A diplomat waits for you."

[SirNitram]

One of the crew reached into one such pouch on his belt and withdrew several small, spherical objects. Seemingly of their own volition, they floated close to the ceiling. After hovering there until all the spheres had become level with eachother, they darted around; mapping the interior of the station and giving the Avalonian explorers an idea of the composition of the inhabitants.

The spheres went unmolested through the bazaar, but ran into sealed doors in a few places; probably ops and security, from the Trade Common warnings written on them.

A few moments after the spheres began exploration, a large man, dressed in an obnoxiously loud three peice suit with a monocle approached the group. "Ladies and gentlemen," He began, his Trade Common accented but clear. "I welcome you to the border! Have you come to trade? I have been told your ship isn't a design we've seen in some time. I am Exeter Asters, organizer of this trade station. How can I assist you?"

[Lancer]

The moon specified was a relatively short hyperdrive jump away. After notifying FleetCom via a brief databurst, the Highborn emerged from subspace into a stable orbital position above the moon, broadcasting a simple confirmation message and waited patiently for further contact.

Deep inside the moon, a Diviner station took a closer, more thorough look at the ship. The scanners for magic didn't pick anything up, and seemed completely technological. A cursory telepathic scan showed no outright hostile thoughts.
After the ship was finally deemed innocuous, two heavy air cruisers slithered out of Netherspace and positioned themselves to both sides of the smaller ships.
A visuaported message appeared in space before the ship. "You are allowed to proceed to Falau'un Cruinne, the fourth planet in system. Any hostile act will result in your destruction. You will dock Yiin'than station. A diplomat waits for you."

The Highborn moved with ease to Falal'un Cruinne and smoothly glided to one of the stations docking ports. Once they were secure, a trio dressed similarly to their counterparts in Hekarte space stepped out into the station. They noticed the unusual appearance of the Falal'un, both in terms of their choice of garments, and their physical traits. Arms crossed behind his back, the leader of the delegation stepped forward and introduced himself as Caledon Thales.

The spheres went unmolested through the bazaar, but ran into sealed doors in a few places; probably ops and security, from the Trade Common warnings written on them.

A few moments after the spheres began exploration, a large man, dressed in an obnoxiously loud three peice suit with a monocle approached the group. "Ladies and gentlemen," He began, his Trade Common accented but clear. "I welcome you to the border! Have you come to trade? I have been told your ship isn't a design we've seen in some time. I am Exeter Asters, organizer of this trade station. How can I assist you?"

It took a second for the leader of the contingent to recognize the language as a heavily debased form of speech common prior to the Second Fall. He spoke hesitantly, trying out the ancient version of the language for the first time in a century. The last time he had spoken it was as a student at the schola. "I am Divas Ca'ter. You speak more truthfully than you know; it has been many generations since our kind last visited this region of space. We come as explorers to satisfy our curiosity."

As they spoke, the survey drones zipped back to the Avalonian who had dispensed them. One of the amber gems on his cuffs lit up slightly, displaying a quick-scrolling progression of blocky runes. Ca'ter glanced over towards him and nodded, and a holographic representation of the trade-floor plan streamed out to eye level. He looked back at Asters and continued. "You refered to this place as a trade station. I do not mean any offense, but what items of value would be exhanged here?"

[SirNitram]

It took a second for the leader of the contingent to recognize the language as a heavily debased form of speech common prior to the Second Fall. He spoke hesitantly, trying out the ancient version of the language for the first time in a century. The last time he had spoken it was as a student at the schola. "I am Divas Ca'ter. You speak more truthfully than you know; it has been many generations since our kind last visited this region of space. We come as explorers to satisfy our curiosity."

As they spoke, the survey drones zipped back to the Avalonian who had dispensed them. One of the amber gems on his cuffs lit up slightly, displaying a quick-scrolling progression of blocky runes. Ca'ter glanced over towards him and nodded, and a holographic representation of the trade-floor plan streamed out to eye level. He looked back at Asters and continued. "You refered to this place as a trade station. I do not mean any offense, but what items of value would be exhanged here?"

"Then I welcome you to the Hekartes Protectorate! The United Tribes always welcome newcomers, and I would like to extend a greeting of friendship on behalf of the clans. I will be quite happy to furnish you with any information you may require. As for this station's trade, we primarily export foodstuffs and raw materials, and import higher tech goods. Though we have a few unique curios from the Age of Steel, fascinating trinkets, really, even if not the usual interest of traders."

Asters was as animated as the others, and nodded to the group. "And from whence do you hail? I'm afraid your dress and equipment does not match any star nation I know of."

[Dahak]

The Highborn moved with ease to Falal'un Cruinne and smoothly glided to one of the stations docking ports. Once they were secure, a trio dressed similarly to their counterparts in Hekarte space stepped out into the station. They noticed the unusual appearance of the Falal'un, both in terms of their choice of garments, and their physical traits. Arms crossed behind his back, the leader of the delegation stepped forward and introduced himself as Caledon Thales.

The Avalonian delegation were expected by three Falau'un, the smallest of them taller than the Avalonians. The lead Falau'un, looking around 20 years of age (of less long-lived species). His blue eyes were of a colour seeming almost alive and contrasted by his midnight black shoulder-length hair.
"Welcome to Falau'un Cruinne, Caledon Thales," he said in accented standard. "I am Uri'ija Nefju'un, House Hel'Ad. It has been quite some time since we last have seen aliens in our realm. But given the latest development, it was to be expected. Nonetheless a pleasant surprise. But we should continue in a better suited area than the reception hall. Please follow me." Nefju'un turned around and strode out of the hall with an almost arrogant aura around him. The other Falau'un fell in behind them.

A short walk away, they walked into a round room, dominated by a triangular table in its centre. The wall opposite to the entrance was completely transparent, though no glass or other material was outright visible.
When they all were seated, Nefju'un spoke again. "Now then," he smiled, "what business brings you to our world?"

[Adrian Laguna]

The diplomatic exchange between the Republic and their neighbors, the Collective, had been successful, if disappointing. The Mekidar gained trade access to half-a-dozen pre-space worlds, and visitation access to a couple of hospitable, but uninhabited, worlds. The Collective will enforce its two main restrictions on contact with their protected worlds: no importation of weapons or things that can be easily used as weapons, and no colonization. Weapons can, however, be procured from the natives. Otherwise, the contract is rather open-ended. More in-depth trade agreements can be settled between Republic merchants and the local potentates of each nation in the various worlds.

Princeps Marcus delivered an impassioned speech, revealing to the public the return of the Republic into the affairs of the local cluster. The General Assembly approved the “Collective-Republic Trade Agreement”. Shortly afterwards, several laws relating to the opening of new commercial opportunities in the neighboring nation were proposed, discussed, and passed. Chief among them were various federal monetary grants and loans given to smaller businesses and corporations, providing a level playing field for those interested in taking advantage of the treaty. A few motions were made for legislation that would do the same for all potential trade opportunities that might arise in the near future, but the Assembly decided to wait.

It won’t be long before many merchants go to the worlds protected by the Collective in the search for profit. For now all of them will obey the treaty’s ban on weaponry, and submit to inspection by Collective ships. In the future though, some of them will likely attempt to get around the limitation, and try to smuggle in weapons or items that could be used as such. Most will fail, and shall have to deal with the rather unpleasant experience of being attacked, restrained, and probably incapacitated, by large, unfriendly combat androids.

[OOC: I would love to actually write the impassioned speech, or at least excerpts of it, but I’m really not in the mood to write that sort of thing right now.]

The Collective appears to have advanced active stealth systems on their fighters. Possibly on their larger ships too, but that’s speculation. I’ll be looking into ways to counter it. Maybe we could ask some merchants to mount high powered scanning systems on their ships, get a good look at the Collective’s ships. They might not appreciate it, but I doubt they would raise much of a fuss. Will talk with the diplomatic team and ask for their opinion on the matter.

Suggest that you go talk with VGA (Logistics) about assessing security risks and eliminating them. See if you can push for an overall increase in security practices without affecting the performance of the Spacy as a whole. It is of little surprise that one of our neighbors chose to spy on us, but it really irks me that they are so dammed casual about it.

Vice-Grand Admiral (Operations) Asdvadz

With contact established with their neighbors, the Mekidar, emboldened, send out various ships to check up on the status of old friends and allies. The theory being that if they’re still around and relatively intact, ideologically speaking, then chances are that they would be willing to engage in trade with the Republic again. MRS-115 Axe set out toward Khar space. MRS-167 Rear Guard set course for what is currently a confederation of various nations, held together and led by the Antigan government. Finally, MRS-168 Ass Guardian would arrive deep within Freehold territory. Many other ships would arrive at various destinations, and find little but ruined worlds and floating debris. These would look around, analyzing their surroundings, and then go home.

[OOC: These ships won't be arriving for a while, just giving people a heads up.]

Contact Point 2

Shipmind opened a communication to the Mekidar ship. "The most experienced aliens communication and interactions expert among the Diem has agreed to act in negotiations with your people at a time and place of your choosing, subject of course to practical considerations."

“We have diplomats aboard who are authorized to deal with foreign entities. The meeting can take place aboard one of your ships, on an orbital installation, or on the surface of one of your planets. Wherever is most convenient for you will be fine. With one exception though, protocol forbids us from allowing non-Spacey personnel aboard military ships like this one.”

[Duckie]

Diplomatic transmission
origin: LPGNCOM
destin: LKLR Tertn'Naut'Qedti Nyu-Oeq'Tertser
ref: contact
stamp: placate

This is acceptable to us. Our eagerness to make contact is exceeded only by our desire to maintain a state of amiability between our powers. Please proceed to these [attached 090912] coordinates within the system. A list of interplanetary traffic lanes has been provided; these will be cleared if necessary.

The Khar Vessel broadcast a quick statement of assent and turned to proceed to the rally point. Only the very observant would note the slight power spikes representing charging shielding and weaponry onboard the ship.
--------------------------

The intercom beeped a few times for attention.

"Attention, this is your Captain speaking. We have entered Revalthic space and are currently engaged with negotiations. Nevertheless, the ship shall heretoforth be on Combat Alert Alpha. Get to your Combat Stations."

People started running around in organized chaos. Turrets were manned, engines were checked, and shields were turned on- ever so slightly, charging slowly. The lights changed to a vague Reddish-Orangey color, the Khar Battle Stations color.

One couldn't be too careful, concluded the Captain, when making deals with Shaitan.

[Companion Cube]

The Khar vessel moved through a spacescape not unlike the inky depths of an ocean, crowded with weird and wonderful shapes drifting through the void. Luminescent bubbles hanging in the darkness, translucent spines and sails extended to catch the hadal currents, interrupted occasionally by a fanged maw. Well, pretty much everything was too far away to see, and "crowded" was a relative term, but the simile held to some extent.

Seven picket ships formed a loose sphere around the Khar ship as it cruised, probing gently with passive sensors. Ahead lay a hab asteroid which had been chosen as the site of the impromptu diplomatic event.

Already aboard the 'roid, J'wro (Complected) of the Diplomatic Corps tapped his fingers on the console casing in front of him. As his previous experience with the Khar (just a conversation, really, followed by flight through the hallways to the shuttle) apparently granted him expert status, he had been selected to head the diplomatic mission to the Khar, if the opportunity arose. He stood in a hastily-assembled operations centre, previously the comms annexe for the asteroid. Cables coiled along the floor, leading to heavy-duty signals equipment which would maintain a link with LPGNCOM and selected Plenum representatives during whatever interaction took place with the Khar. Just over two hundred metres below, a hangar had been appropriated by the Diplomatic Corps, and now hundreds of Aggressor Squadron marines patrolled the station, demanding ID from anyone they encountered. J'wro had ordered them to cease after the makeshift stockades filled, but he suspected the orders had yet to filter down.

Not for the first time, it ocurred to him that everyone on the asteroid was going to look a bit foolish if all the Khar really wanted was to exchange pleasantries and conduct diplomacy over the comms.