Space STGOD diplomacy thread.(2K9)

[Darkevilme]

-----
In the wake of the Global Collapse, the nations of the Earth began the long struggle to rebuild. The devastation was not complete, but lacking resources, the governments of Earth turned to the off-world colonies for aid. The colonies grew rich and powerful, spreading across the Solar System in the search for resources to exploit, and establishing new settlements in their wake. Consequently, it was inevitable that humanity would, sooner or later, discover the nodes.

The nodes were apparently natural phenomena drifting across the fringes of many star systems, which linked one sun to another across the interstellar void, allowing instantaneous travel across hundreds or thousands of light years. At first they were difficult to exploit, as they moved around the edges of their respective solar systems, but eventually their courses became predictable, and humanity had the means to reliably travel to other stars. But as human expeditions explored new worlds around far-off suns, they soon discovered that they were not the first form of intelligent life to develop in the galaxy, or even the first to discover the nodes. Many civilizations could be found that originated around other Suns, from stone-age tribes to other interstellar empires. Some contacts were peaceful, and others were not. And as more permanent, self-sufficient, and far-reaching colonies were established, some broke away to form their own, independent nations across the stars, often to pursue their own policies in dealing with their alien neighbors. Over time, a complex web of interstellar politics began to form, much of it centering around the United Nations, a pan-galactic descendent of the old Earth organization.

And then it happened: the sole node connecting Earth to the rest of the Universe disappeared. In an instant, the far-flung colonies were cut off from the home system by the vast reaches of space. Paranoia was rife, as the human governments pointed fingers at each other and at the alien factions around them. In an effort to stave off a multi-sided interstellar war and develop new diplomatic relationships in the vacuum created by the absence of Earth, a number of governments have agreed to hold a UN conference in a barren, neutral system aboard a once-derelict space station of unknown origins...
-----


After all it is necessary to get behind someone to stab them in the back.
Begin.

[Thirdfain]

United Nations Central

The Secretary-General of the United Nations tapped lightly at his microphone for a second.

"... And we have a second to the motion. Excellent. This body will retire for the evening. I need not remind the assembled delegates that a state dinner, celebrating this, the one thousandth meeting of the United Nations, will begin with a reception in three hours. This body will re-convene tomorrow morning at nine o'clock, station time."

It was widely known in diplomatic circles that little actually got done in the formal meetings in chambers. The real politicking was often decided beforehand, informally, by the plenipotentiaries gathered. The evening promised to be most fruitful, especially considering the new ambassadors who'd shown up.

[SirNitram]

The specialized spider drone modified for duty here skittered out of the main hall. It's Programmer, hidden somewhere secure but within lightspeed range, mused over the creativity by which this place managed to fill time with very little content. Perhaps the dinner would prove more useful.

The drone itself was gold-plated, lacking it's signature laser weapon slung underneath, and the red eye glow. Infrared was fine for normal operations, but the biologicals seemed to prefer a different range. So it was changed.

[Beowulf]

The representative of the Mahou Kikai mingled through the dinner. Although it wasn't a government per se (having no one to govern), it still had interests. Those interests could be advanced here, at the UN. Unlike the Draelon, the Mahou Kikai had a sense of aesthetics. It's representative took the shape of a beautiful, leggy, tall, human woman. It was dressed in a navy blue dress with elaborate embroidery of navy blue.

[Darth Raptor]

Ambassador Osser Dreinard, Right Honorable Representative of the Tathessi Democratic Imperium, had also a highly developed sense of aesthetics. Aestheticism was the closest thing Tathess had to religion, and Dreinard was priestly in his devotion. The short, slender bioroid was male, a fact not readily apparent. His clothing, sparse, more ornamental than instrumental, vaguely and not unintentionally reminiscent of ancient Terran fare. Pallid flesh, blood red eyes and shock-white hair (longer than he was tall, held in elaborate braids) kept him from being conventionally attractive by the standards of most human and post-human cultures. That was a problem, he recognized. Unity was not Meridia, and the most critical portion of his diplomatic mission called for more open relations with other liberal and human nations; like-minded allies Tathess would come to depend on if the Imperium were to involve itself in galactic affairs. The novice diplomat should be less visually off-putting to those accustomed to senescence and sexual dimorphism. Osser immediately began producing pigments; in hours, his skin would be a rich bronze, his eyes brown and hair black. Still, the four hundred year old looked... immature by Natural standards. Growth required protein however and, ah, this was a dinner wasn't it? Tathessi gluttony was legendary. He would have to pace himself or risk perpetuating unfortunate stereotypes.

[Master_Baerne]

Arabella Nehele, the Sapphire Caste Countess who served as Her Dark Majesty's representative on Unity Station, handed her cloak to a Yellow Caste servant before stepping out of the main chamber. There was a slight draft in the titanic room that housed the United Nations, which was not present in the hallways between the Assembly Chamber and her own accommodations - and why should one of her rank and station be uncomfortable, when there were servants around to carry extra wraps?

The reception posed a diplomatic challenge worthy of Nehele's experience, and she looked forward to it, and the various politicking she expected to occur during it. Unfortunately, since she intended to appear in formal Court dress, she'd need at least an hour to get ready. Best to get going, then.

"Sister dear, a message arrived by while you were busy. It's from Ebon Askavi, and it's locked to your personal code." Ardelia Nehele, officially High Priestess of the Unity Hourglass stated from just behind her. Arabella almost jumped a foot in the air, but decorum managed to stop her with a slight twitch.

"Mother Night, don't do that! You know how little I appreciate your appearing out of thin air like that."

"My apologies. It comes with the job." A slight smile was Ardelia's only reaction to the outburst.

"True. Are you coming to the reception?"

"I suppose so. You'll be wearing full Court dress?"

"Of course. You should too. Set a good impression, perhaps even make Mother proud."

"No. The Hourglass's robes will suit me just fine. Let's go."

"Wait, wait, the message first." A sealed letter from the capital could be anything...or nothing, but it was best to know either way.

"Certainly. A moment..." Ardelia glanced around, and Arabella could almost see the cybernetic bug sweepers dumping information into her sister's mind. "It's clear. Here you are."

Reading quickly through the short letter, the ambassador folded it in half before slipping the note into a pocket in her jacket. "You'll like this. I'll tell you in my quarters."

"As the Ambassador wills."

[Ohma]

"Damn it all!" Mahal Debim punched the wall with his augmented hand, leaving a small dent.



He looked the obviously malfunctioning robot in what he assumed was its main visual receptor. What was left of his mouth twisted into as close to a sneer as it could.

"Mahal Debim! Ambassador! Hallowed Worlds of Guymelus! Authentication code-" before he could even finish rattling that alphanumeric nightmare off for a third time a bright and cheerful member of Unity Station Security interrupted.

"AH! Mr. Debim! We've been looking for you. Sorry about any delays, I don't think most of the security system has received your updated biometrics. I'll have your luggage transported back to your quarters by hand." The woman tapped a screen on her sleeve and the robot hovered away to harass other people.

Mahal moved his head slightly to focus on the young...human? woman behind him. "Thank you. Would you please escort me to the reception?" A pause while a mechanical apparatus extended from his head, swiveling in what could only be considered a theatrical fashion. "My latest augmentations seem to have altered my appearance more than I expected."

[Fingolfin_Noldor]

Exarch Decius of the Foundation Imperium walked into room stately and silent. A trained pskyer, he shielded his thoughts and maintained a steely, if pensive facade. While the humans of the Foundation Imperium were not entirely xenophobic, they distrusted humans who have gone "native" or were too open to xeno interaction. With the AIs, it was a question of whether they regarded organics ... too impure. Regardless, he was here as a representative of the Emperor, and he would do his duty, and find out just who was a potential enemy of the Foundation Imperium and Mankind, and who had similar interests that might serve the needs of the Foundation Imperium.

He cocked his head towards his aides, who was also walking around surveying the crowd. Humans in the Foundation Imperium had many cyborg implants and he was given implants that allowed for heavily encrypted communication. Communicating to his aides, he told them to listen and watch carefully.

[Alyrium Denryle]

Ambassador Insculpta drew himself out of the pool in his quarters hauled himself onto a large mat constructed of reeds, the traditional basking platform of his species.

"Lights, Energy intensity one kilowatt, full spectrum" he said to the station's computer. As the light turned on he immediately felt better, as the immitation sunlight recharged him, and sent wave after wave of serotonin and dopamine through his system. Definitely one of the little pleasures in life. It also gave him the energy needed to invade and affect the minds of others. Not that his particular membership in the Clemmyid order was still on the books or anything. He stretched out on his plastron, and splayed out his arms and legs to take in the maximum amount of light.

"Computer, any messages from homeworld?"
"negative" the computer replied.

His mission had not changed. He needed to increase economic ties with, and sign non-aggression pacts with certain of their neighbors. He drew up the list and looked over it. Some of them would be a tough sell. Still, he did not particularly want to attend the reception. The humanoids always had chairs in abundance, but due to anatomical differences he could not sit in them. If he wanted to not stand he had to either get down on all fours or move the one or two round concave and cushioned chairs that fit his carapace that they provided for his use to the appropriate location.

He sighed, and got up, hoisting himself up on his forearms, then rotating his legs down underneath, then wrenching his very inflexible back up like a poorly designed crane. Standing was easy. Getting up from prone was not because he could only barely bend his back. The primarily aquatic Archelonian plodded out of the room and toward the reception hall.

[Dahak]

Ambassador Ehan Turanat stood up from his recliner and streched his arms a bit. He looked at the hologram longingly, which currently showed the Flowing-Tears mountains, his favourite spot back home. The majesty, the serenity, it always made his hearts warm up. Quite unlike the location he was at now... The diplomacy station was a far cry from anything he would consider comfortable, and even his significant talent couldn't change it all. Just get on with it, he told himself and sighed.
Here he was, barely a grown up at a mere 70 years, wasting his time and talents on this "diplomacy". He still was a bit unsure about this whole concept of diplomacy and absurd notions these aliens had. Back home, it was much, much easier. You do as you're told, or you suffer fatal accidents (or you're the one arranging them...). They wasted so much time on discussions, meetings, focus groups, and whatnot. Shrugging, he went to get into his fancy official clothing and briskly walked towards the reception hall, putting up his friendly face.

[White Haven]

The officially-accredited ambassador of the Novogord Cluster Authority strides into the reception hall along with a small entourage...specifically his wife and mistress (Both of whom glare at each other whenever he's not looking), a female secretary, and his attache, equally female. Whenever either the attache or the secretary move too close to the good Ambassador, both the wife and the mistress suspend the battle of glares to send the interloper reeling... metaphorically, of course. From this several conclusions can be drawn: firstly, that he is rich and also powerful, given his dubious physical condition and advancing age. Secondly, that he is a fool for giving his entire entourage reason to stab each other in the back, and possibly also himself.

Thirdly, of course, that he has a fondness for blondes.

Fourthly, equally obvious, is that there has to be a reason that someone as probably-useless as Ambassador Douglas Wainworth is allowed to represent an entire star nation. That reason is elsewhere in the room, having arrived in advance of his official counterpart.

The man in the nondescript charcoal-gray suit travels alone, and his pockets are empty, his face is bland and carefully emotionless; if he played poker, he would be a formidable opponent, but his gambling is done at higher levels than that. His name is,

"Minister Smith," spoken with a slight hesitation and the faintest trace of a smile that communicate quite clearly that that is not his real name, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ambassador Kellan, now shall we discuss that unfortunate incident last month, perhaps over a cup of..."

[Darkevilme]

The Chamaran Kasan representing clan Donarra and the queen's will leaves the meeting hall leisurely amidst the feline chatter of her entourage. Wearing a trailing cape and ceremonial short sword like the rest of the party, the silver spiral of the Donarra clanmark enlaid into her attire. The other four bearing the silver marks of the other noble clans, aides unable to speak on behalf the civilization as a whole but to advise Kasan away from anything that would adversely affect their clans influence. So little has happened during the meeting that the conversation is mainly on the little news from back home, comments on the various diplomats passed on their way and the coming reception and the variety of food on offer.

[Thirdfain]

"Lady Arabella Nehele, a message for you."

One of the Kaeleeri attaches had decided to bring the particular piece of social nicety to Arabella's attention. When she had a moment, she went over the quaint slip of folded stationary.

"Bondwoman-Countess Nehele,

I beg your pardon for the intrusion, but I would be infinitely pleased if you would grant me the pleasure of your company at six forty-five, station time, in the reception hall. I eagerly await your acquaintance.
Your Servant,
Bondman Sanje su Akarta,
Voice of the Hajr.

First contact via an absurdly florid social notice? I thought I'd seen it all.

The Countess shook her head.

**

The black ship had attracted some attention in it's arrival- the newcomers from the Rim were inscrutable, and their vessels utilized means of conveyance quite beyond the experiences of the local powers. The Ousters, it seemed, had decided to come after all.

Their envoy was not present for the day's meeting. However, he was the first one to arrive at the reception. Tall, thin-waisted and broad-shouldered, the Ouster moved with an inhuman, almost reptilian grace. He was dressed in a rather utilitarian charcoal-grey shipsuit, decorated with slashes of bright colours down the flanks. He also wore a short vest of what seemed to be rawhide, decorated with silver traceries. His face was unlined but serious, and his pale red hair was tied in tight cornrows, flush against his scalp. There were two others with him- a man and a women, of similar builds and complexions. Any fool could guess that, judging by their less elaborately decorated vests and suits they were lesser members of the delegation. One was already eating, absentmindedly, from a plate she'd taken from a passing servitor.

They were clearly waiting for someone.

[Tanasinn]

While Ambassador Vel engaged in both food and political small-talk with his fellow diplomats with typical Yuli enthusiasm, his assigned Network diplomat stood on in silence, observing and listening. Learning. Uniquely intelligent among Network drones, diplomats also bore a head, neck, and expressive face, something not practical or necessary for a common drone. It considered these concessions to the uneasiness of biologicals to be emblematic of its outsider status, even in the Network. The Network had little regard or trust for intelligent individual AIs: they were viewed as unpredictable, individualistic, and potentially treacherous. The diplomat understood it came unhealthily close to "too independent;" it didn't have to wonder this, as a part of the Network, it simply knew.

All of this was not particularly upsetting. The diplomat had a purpose, and that was good enough.

Watching Ambassador Vel even as it observed the crowd at large, it estimated that Vel's contributions to this mission would, despite his biological's behavior, be greater than its own: certainly he was better-received. Emotional recognition data told the diplomat that much. Not even the clothing that Vel had insisted would make the diplomat seem more personable and less "artificial" seemed to have a negligable effect. Additionally, the diplomat found most of the data that it was collecting useless. Recounted visits and dinners, discussions of sports, discussions of sexual exploits; it was garbage data.

Somewhere inside its logic center, the diplomat felt a shadow's shadow of annoyance.

[Alyrium Denryle]

Ambassador Insculpta walked into the reception hall. Well, it was more of a waddle than a walk, and there was absolutely nothing graceful about it, but it worked. In fact it might surprise someone just how quickly he could move on those big webbed feet of his. The first on his list were the cat-like Chamarans. He looked around for their ambassador, but apparently was one of the first to actually arrive. Him and the ambassador for those Abominable ousters. They bred like the great GiraK, practically spawning in massive numbers and then having to expand ever onward in order just to support their populations, with long periods scratching out existence at subsistence level, never even considering the idea that maybe, just maybe, they ought limit themselves for five seconds and think that maybe, other species had a right to exist and harvest resources. This tendency could of course with skilled webs, be put to good use. Only time would tell eh? He of course thought this only to himself. Carefully shielding his thoughts under several layers of carefully constructed blocks. He knew others with mental talents existed and did not want his thoughts..leaking.

[Dahak]

Ambassador Ehan Turanat entered the reception hall a few meters behind the walking turtle. It still baffled him, he admitted, that these creatures actually existed. Of course, his smile never wavered. He had learned that about "diplomacy". Always smile, even if you drop a nuke on your opponent.
He walked deeper into the reception hall and he made it look like he owned the place and exuded a self-confidence bordering on arrogance. He was just a few centimeters shy of two meters tall and his long, curly blond hair flowed around him. He wore his dress uniform, consisting of a dragon-hide trouser a black it seemed to suck in light like a black hole, a scintillating white shriwaak-silk shirt with a mandarin collar, and a black dress coat of Itan velvet, shoving his medals and achievement. The outfit went well with his muscular physique. Of course, if one knew anything about it, one would immediately recognize the outfit as the dress uniform of the Imperial Assasin's Guild, the current main intelligence service of the Empire (and as a new addition, the diplomatic service).
His mind scanned the room, but he didn't feel anything special, apart from the usual murmur of surface thoughts. The turtle, though, tried to imitate a hole in space. Whatever he has to hide, he mused. He filed it under "check later". The Ousters also got a longer look from him. They were so busy trying to be mysterious, it was actually interesting. He would have to check up on them later, as well.
A flick of thought, and he held a glass of champagne in his hand and sipped, waiting for others to arrive.

[Ohma]

Mahal and the officer, Rhiannon was her name, exited one of the high speed lifts near the reception hall. He'd tried to make conversation on the way, but in addition to not really having anything to make small talk about...he had the same feeling he always had with people like her, particularly humans. The feeling that he wasn't regarded as a person, it had been the same back on Farnel before he accepted the Guymelusian leaders' offer, the humans there always acted like he was diseased, never stopping to think that to a lahir they looked the same way, a caricature of what a person should look like. No matter, those days were long past, along -he mused as they neared the entrance- with most of his original body.

“Here we are ambassador. When you decide to retire to your quarters, just call security, we'll send someone to make sure you're able to get there. Sorry again for any delays caused by this.”

“Not at all, perfectly understandable. Machines can be like that.” He tilted his head to make sure he caught her expression after hearing that.

Mahal was pleasantly surprised to find that he was not nearly so late as he'd thought. Only a few of the other ambassadors had arrived so far. There were of course, the three synthetics, timing impeccable as ever. The Mahou Kikai's representative appearing (ridiculously enough) as some (presumably beautiful) human woman. The less mechanical half of the Network's duo mingling with others present while the diplomat (looking more like a sculpture than the super intelligent being he knew it to be) watched and learned. The Draelon representative was the only one who Mahal deemed to be 'dressed' appropriately. He'd have to give Guymelus' regards to each of them before the evening was out, but before that, there was more serious business to attend to.

Having missed the last meeting due to the automated security system refusing to accept him as being Mahal Debim with a radically altered face and a second micro-fusion reactor in his chest, he'd been unable to address the matter the Four had asked him to in their last message. He scanned the room for the Chamaran representative, simultaneously scanning through the archives in the other part of his brain for her name and any other pertinent information about the Chamaran queendom.

[Darkevilme]

Kasan-Ono and her entourage are easy to spot, the only cluster of Chamarans in the room they enter the reception at an unhurried pace enroute from their chambers. Their ensemble little changed from before though enhanced with more intricate and ornate clanbands, bracelets with coloured stripes forming the chosen pattern of their family and set in silver and gemstone. The Chamarans look around taking stock of who is around, two robots, a half dozen humans...ah and the Archelonian. Kasan turns to her aide as she notices Mahal Debim's attention “We're going to be busy today, who's he?” “Mahal Debim, representative of Guymelus” offers the Arnor representative, Sha-Nesa “and I may see what he wants while you tend to the Archelonian matters, nyo.”she continues then Kasan nods “you may.” Sha detaches from the group and slips across the reception towards Mahal “Greetings Mahal of Guymelus, I am Sha-Nesa of Emeria and representative of Arnor.” she says, slipping into a language they can mutually pronounce.

Kasan meanwhile pauses only a moment longer watching Sha slip off and taking note of the presence of Ehan Turanet in the room, she hopes he'll be around later the queen was most interested in the thing they call magic both to enrich the life of Chamaran nobility and perhaps to prolong it on the battlefield. Still there's more vital concerns for the Chamaran cause and one of those can be aided by one with a shell so Kasan and her remaining entourage make their way over to the Archelonian ambassador snagging drinks from a passing servitor just before meeting him. The foursome do a nod of polite respect before Kasan speaks “Greetings Insculpta of the Archelonian Union, I am Kasan-Ono of Cyris, representative of Donarra and to my right is Tia-ull of Nerasue, representative of Kitzal.” she says, introducing one of her entourage as the matter will involve Kitzal heavily.

Edit: Infodump. Chamaran names.
Chamarans have two part formal names usually followed in introductions by their clan name and position if important. For informal use the first part of a Chamaran's name can be used, so Kasan-Ono is informally just Kasan and formally Kasan-Ono. The clan name and/or position is not required in general conversation.

[Master_Baerne]

Lady Arabella passed the hour between her arrival at the banquet and her appointment with the Ouster representative mingling with her peers and exchanging small talk, sometimes a code for more important observations, with her sister and the other Kaeleerian personnnel. She was careful not to give offense to any other ambassador, but avoided broaching any important subjects with such a small amount of time on her hands.

When the appointed hour arrived, she nodded to Ardelia, and the two women swept through the crowd towards Sanje su Akarta.

"Bondman. I'm Countess Arabella Nehele, Sapphire Caste, Her Dark Majesty's ambassador on Unity Station. This is my sister, Lady Ardelia, Opal Caste. She's the High Priestess of the Unity Hourglass." The twins offered carefully-measured half-bows, not entirely sure what the Ouster's social rank was. Arabella wore a gown and cloak of sapphire silk, while Ardelia was dressed in a simple robe of black, with a diagonal band a white across her chest and an hourglass pendant at her throat.

"It is our pleasure to make your acquaintance." The two said in unison.

[Fingolfin_Noldor]

Decius walked around, passively listening to the tendrils of thoughts, the conversations. He marked the arrival of the Ousters and sensed the aura of menace exuded by the Ousters. He smiled and licked his tongue. This was going to be interesting. Decius walked towards Ambassador Insculpta. <<You can hear me, can't you? Ambassador Insculpta.>> Decius looked silently at the Ambassador, to see if the other would respond to his psychic communication. Given the proximity of the Archelonian Union, it was just as well that he started the pleasantries of negotiation.

[Darth Raptor]

Ambassador Dreinard was late. Fashionably so, but then he was always fashionable. Not that most outsiders could be expected to appreciate his tastes his clothing, jewelry or hairstyles. Outsider norms were so far removed from those of Tathess that he had made concessions to their positively brutal sensibilities. The increased stature and more pronounced maleness he was cultivating would take another day or so, but it took him only a few minutes to change his wardrobe. The climate aboard Unity Station was well within the range of comfort, but Naturals adhered to what they called "modesty". Modesty dictated clothing that concealed rather than accentuated. Given how ugly Naturals could be, Osser was admittedly rather glad of it. Thus, his quasi-Egyptian ensemble was exchanged for a bulky, loose fitting robe of heavy fabric. The brilliant white with elaborate, gold embroidery turned more than a few heads as the ancient dignitary bounced into the dining hall. A not insignificant number held their stares, wondering whose kid had been let in to the reception and trying to determine the gender of this impeccably dressed young... being?

Sharp eyes and an even sharper mind scanned the assembled diplomats. Osser suppressed a sneer as he noticed Ousters of all things. What were they doing among the (nominally) civilized? Ambassador Insculpta of the Archelonian Union, his priority target, appeared to be quite popular. No matter, he could wait. There was always the other Imperium. A mite warlike and illiberal for his tastes, but Tathess believed their Emperor to be a reasonable man, and that was the important thing. Exarch Decius was wandering aimlessly, staring off into space. By the look of him, seduction was probably a wash, but with Naturals, one could never tell. Osser began exuding pheremones just in case.

"Greetings Ambassador," the bioroid almost sang. "From our Imperium to yours. It is always a pleasure to meet one of your Emperor's servants. His Majesty is such a fascinating man..."

Decius can read the non-psychic Dreinard like an open book, and is surprised to learn that the Emperor of Man is something of a sex symbol in the TDI. Delving a bit deeper, he discovers an interview of retired Archon and Founder Dr. Essany Tathess wherein she describes His Majesty as "a sexy beast" and goes on to reveal that she "would totally marry him if He asked". So far as Decius can tell, the Tathessi do not make such proclamations lightly.

[Thirdfain]

The Ouster made a strange gesture- a sort of fluttering of his long fingers, like sign language. Perhaps a sign of greeting?

"I am the Voice of the Speaker. May your air be sweet and plentiful. Now that such formalities are out of the way, I would as a gesture of respect to your Queeen inform you of important facts. Know that the Hajr does not bandy words or play games. We move through absolutes. There will be no shades of grey in our dealings."

He pulled from a pocket a small plastic object. It hummed to life, and a grainy representation of the Western Rim came into being.

Two systems at the border flashed red.



"These systems are vital for the Hajr. We will have them- for the creation of safe passage amongst our brothers and sisters. They are in your sphere of influence. We need no domination, or strict military control- all we require is settlement and security. If you will have it, we will make what arrangements are necessary for your comfort in that regard."

The Ouster was extremely blunt, no doubt about it. Maybe he'd hired someone to write the letter?

[SirNitram]

The DRAELON drone sat quietly, running small-talk subroutines if engaged in smalltalk, and introduing itself repeatedly in various languages. The presense of other machines perked up the Programmer controlling it; perhaps they'd be more inclined to speak with the odd spider. A simple flash of data was sent to the robotic ambassadors, a simple greeting. Their reactions would be very interesting.

[Dahak]

His senses tingled as the ambassador of the Foundation Empire started what seemed to be a telepathic communication. Almost feeble in its strength, he still made a mental node of it. A pity he couldn't eavesdrop, but that would certainly draw attention to him he didn't want.
The Chamarans were curious, to say the least. But by now, he got used to strangeness. Still, he wanted to know what they wanted to talk about. They were less than direct in their request. For now, he just stood there, sipping his champagne and looking haughty. He could do that to perfection...

[Nephtys]

The Llaelar Ambassador swaggered through the great hall, seeming all too pleased with himself and his sizable diplomatic entourage. Dressed in finery, he seemed to not have a care in the world beyond finishing up trivial matters of diplomacy, and returning to another evening of public banquet and partying. He joked and laughed, enjoying another fine evening of exotic wines and delicacies. Although not a powerful nation, he remained proud of his small star nation's extensive economy and trading interests.

Still, the announcement of the Hajr representative had detracted his attention from the subtle jib and jab of diplomatic smalltalk. "Ah, Ambassador Voice of the Speaker. Welcome to our great quorum!" he turns, moving over towards the strange being. "But I must now act on behalf of my government to your direct claim of soverignty in those proposed systems." he waves a hand towards the projection. "The Llaelar Republic has numerous business interests in those systems! Several of our private corporations are beginning notable development of the asteroid belts. But I think we could come to some manner of mutually beneficial agreement regarding the sharing of these unclaimed systems in question?" proposes the jovial man, speaking quite casually with the mysterious nation's representative.