NationStates Jolt Archive

Low Orbit
Sanara Prime, the Trilarian Empire

“Be careful with that!” rumbled Eeboranu Eeiitamantaaabanus, using a powerful flip of his eel-like tail to propel himself forward. The offending technician shrunk before his commander and backed away from the complicated foreign machinery.

“You fool!” continued Eeboranu, waving one of his manipulators at the resin-based container while using another to push several buttons. “You might have disrupted the incubating membrane! I hope that I do not need to tell you what THAT would have done to us?”

“My apologies, Captain Eeiitamantaaabanus,” replied the other, spreading his four manipulators and bowing his bulbous head in a gesture of shame.

“Well, don’t let it happen again!” insisted Eeboranu. “I have every intention of living through this ...escapade!” However, the technician’s morose attitude soon took the edge off of the captain. “By the Old One, I realize that this is not your fault, Booranhaa. It’s these damned Sakkrans and their damned machines - they were not made by the traitors to function underwater.”

“I shall strive to do better in the future,” replied Booranhaa.

“I hope so. I must go to the bridge now - see that we are ready for launch when I call.”

------

Sanara Prime is not a planet that was ever meant to be home to a colony of Trilarians. There is no liquid water on the planet, and Sanara burns hotly enough during the daylight hours to fry the skin off a Trilarian. For this reason, all Trilarian settlement on the planet, which is a key base linking Trilar to its colony on Sslaa IV, must be contained within one of the three massive aquadomes.

The aquadomes are an admitted weak spot of Sanara’s defenses, and the greatest care is taken to safeguard them. Their tops are solid armor and their sides protected by the natural rock into which they are dug. Point defense hard beams ring the aquadomes to catch incoming missile fire.

But never had they been designed to defend themselves against anything like the Sakkran SPORE round that was now shooting down from a nondescript freighter in low orbit. There was no time for even the automated hardbeams to recognize it as a threat and attempt to shoot it down; the ortillery shell slammed into the exposed side of the largest of the three aquadomes and detonated.

For a moment, it seemed as if nothing would happen; the armor had barely even been scratched. Then, the SPORE round came into its own. The super-viral agent tore through the armor as if it were not there, and then bored holes straight through each of the following redundancy layers.

-------

“Round away,” reported the gunner. “Our man has done his work - none of the hard beams is even trying to track the shell.”

“Then it is time for us to retire,” nodded Eeboranu. “Z-plus seventy thousand, as quick as you like. Once we have the altitude, take us into the starlane.”

The freighter strained its ancient engines to comply with its captains orders. Soon, its orange hull was pulsating white as power was gathered to make the jump into the starlane.

However, all was not well.

“The Gallant is coming around the far side of Sanara Prime!” reported sensors. She referred to the Sanaran system defense ship; Gallant was not the newest vessel (in fact, she was one of the oldest) in the Imperial Trilarian Navy, but she was more than a match for the little freighter as she strained to build up power.

“She’ll be in range for her spinal mount in fifteen seconds,” reported the gunner.

“Time to jump?”

“Twenty-five seconds.”

“Then we’ll just have to hope that her aim is bad,” said Eeboranu, watching the two numbers count down with his good left eye. If the freighter could just survive the initial shot - if Gallant’s gunners just missed that one shot, they’d be home free.

But it was not to be. The round from Gallant’s spinal-mounted mass driver tore into the old freighter’s unarmored hull, and the race was over. The freighter lost pressure through half her decks as water blew out into space and froze - unfortunately, those decks with crewmen on them were among the affected. Eeboranu and his crew died before they even realized they were under fire.

-----

Back on Sanara Prime, the SPORE round had done its bloody work. An entire side of the aquadome had been eaten away, and water - carrying with it thousands upon thousands of Trilarians - spilled out onto the desert floor.

It was a disaster unrivaled in the Empire’s history.

Palace of the Tides
Trilar, Trilar System, the Trilarian Empire

Eaalaril Taee, Emperor of All the Trilarians, could scarcely believe his own eyes and swim bladder. Sanara Prime, leveled? One hundred thousand dead, and many more wounded? Surely it wasn’t possible...

Before him hovered his two top advisors: Leoluus Oraborus, Minister of Foreign Relations and General Laabrian Juastaal, head of the Trilarian Military. It was clear that each blamed the other for this disaster.

“The important thing for now,” Emperor Taee made himself say, scarcely hearing the rumbling of his own voice, “is not pointing fingers. Leoluus, Laabrian, do you agree?”

“Of course, Your Imperial Majesty,” they chanted obediently, though they threw daggers at each other through their eyes.

“The important thing is to find out what happened.”

“I think it’s pretty clear, Your Majesty,” General Laabrian burst out. “The damned landwalkers burned our colony.”

“There’s no evidence of that!” countered Leoluus hotly. The two seemed about to launch into another of their heated arguments when Taee ended all debate with a deep, wordless bellow and a wave of his manipulators.

“I want to know what happened, not who is to blame!” he managed to articulate. “Leoluus, you start! General, you will have your turn; if there is so much as one interruption!”

“A freighter, registered here at Trilar itself, was observed to fire an ortillery round at the largest aquadome on Sanara Prime,” said Leoluus obediently. “The defense guns, which were installed at such great cost, did not fire and the round impacted on the west face of the aquadome. Some ...substance leaked out and ate through the defenses in a matter of minutes. Those that died did so mostly either in the resulting decompression and from exposure on the planet’s surface.”

“Very well. General, do you agree?”

“Yes - with one exception. That substance of which Minister Leoluus speaks; let us call it what it is! It was a SPORE round, which can only be obtained one place...” He paused dramatically. “The Sakkran Empire!”

Taee controlled himself very well. His manipulators hung lifeless, allowing the currents of the room to move them slightly. His breathing membrane inflated and deflated deeply and slowly. At last he spoke:

“Leoluus,” he croaked, “I want you to release this to the public. Your version of events, but I want to make sure the origins of the ...SPORE is known. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Majesty.”

“And I will sign off on it myself before it goes out.”

“Of course, Majesty.”

“Then do so.”

Leoluus and Laabrian fled from their Emperor. They had never seen him in such a mood before.

------

Press release:

A freighter, registered at Trilar in the Trilarian Empire, was observed to fire an ortillery round at Our largest aquadome on Sanara Prime. Our defense guns, which were installed at such great cost, did not fire and the round impacted on the west face of the aquadome. The substance ‘SPORE,’ which according to Our sources can only be obtained in the Sakkran Empire, leaked out and ate through the defenses in a matter of minutes. More than one hundred thousand of Our subjects died in the resulting decompression and leaking.

We are investigating the matter more fully.

By the Old One We remain,

Eaalaril Taee
IMP TRILARIAN

"WHAT!!!" The Imperial Newsfeeds were literally abuzz with the reports of what happened on Sanara prime, and the press release thereafter.


"All the reforms I enacted! All the tightening of security! The streamlining of beaurocracy! All this and still we LOSE OUR TECHNOLOGY! Not only this, but it is used in a terror attack! A TERROR ATTACK! And now fingers will be pointing at us!" A thunderous crash on his desk sends splinters flying all about, into the faces of the assembled group before him. General Gaarm, Ambassador Bosska and Director Thress stand stock still.

"Bosska! I place you in charge of cobbling together something to exonerate us. And get in touch with the Trilarian Emperor! Gaarm, I want you and Admiral Shaar, when she returns, to get your forces in motion. If the Inter-Stellar community decides to try to pin our hides to the wall for this, let us not be caught mid-molt! Thress, I want you to find out who, how and why this happened. Who got our tech, how did they do it, and why did they do it. Out! NOW!"

The three bow lowly, and leave the Imperial Chamber swiftly. Bosska takes a moment to wipe imaginary sweat from under his eyes. "I have never seen the Emperor in such a mood." Even the herculean General Gaarm seems a bit off-put by Gorrm's display of rage. "We'd best work swiftly, before our heads decorate his mantle." Gaarm rushes off, leaving Thress and Bosska alone.

"What do we do?"

"What do you think? You have to contact Emperor Taee, and try to smooth things over. Invite him for tea, meet at a neutral location....you're the ambassador! Figure it out." She then leaves the hall, claws clacking on the resin floor beneath her. Bosska could see her tap her comm-bud below her earhole.

Efficient, i'll give her that. Probably getting a team of Inquisitors together right now. I best get a move on. He follows a good measure behind Thress, making his way to his transport to get to the Diplo Offices on Sslaa V. Once there he initiates a comm to Emperor Taee.

To the honored Emperor Eaalaril Taee,

It is with heavy heart I convey the sorrow we feel in the Sakkran Empire for your loss at Sanara Prime. Let me assure you it was no-one of loyal standing in the Empire here who would commit such a grevious act of terror. We will do whatever we can to aid those suffering, either from wound or loss. Investigative teams are already beginning their tasks.

The Emperor has made himself available to you to meet on your colony here in the Sslaa system, or at any place of your choosing on neutral ground. His first priority was to attempt to better relations with your people, and this will undo much that he has done.

Rest assured when we find the individuals, or groups, responsible for this, they will meet with the harshest punishments that have never been seen before.

May the Old One guide you, and guard you
Ambassador Bosska
Diplomatic Offices
Sslaa V

Gorrm, in the meantime, composes a press release of his own.

**************


From the Offices of Emperor Gorrm
Herpetological Empire of Sakkra

Greetings to all in the Interstellar Community,

I am announcing that we have had no part in the heinious attack on Sanara Prime. We condemn this act fully, and are currently investigating how some of our technology made it into the hands of radical extremists who would like nothing more than to see an open state of hostilities between the Trilarian Empire and ourselves. We will be willing to work in conjunction with the Trilarian Investigators to see the truth of the matter come to light.

Not only this, but we will send forth aid, if desired, to help the wounded and misfortunate of Sanara Prime. Our condolences go forth to the families and friends of those lost in this most cowardly of attacks.

May the Pantheon watch over us all

Emperor Gorrm

###BEGIN TRANSMISSION###
~>Route: Automata AK1 - Angelus Archailect - Trilarian Empire
:
{We are shocked to hear of this catastrophe which has befallen your people and are most}
{aggrieved that we cannot offer assistance. We are also extremely surprised to hear of}
{the munition used but stand by our siblings of the Empire of Sakkra. They are an honorable}
{people who would not resort to such crass terrorism.}

{We offer the assistance of the Scolopendran Intelligence Section in finding the culprits}
{responsible for this act, of course deferring to the wishes of the parties involved. While}
{we find it unfortunate that it took this event for us to open diplomatic relations, hopefully}
{mutual cooperation in this crisis will better our understanding of each other.}
:
~>Route closed
###END TRANSMISSION###

---
http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/nationstates/scolopendra/alshai_kommetrez2.gif (http://www.silentrequiem.net/triumvirate)
Advisor Automata Alshai Kommetrez
International Relations Section
Federation of Scolopendra

((No replies yet, I’m afraid. I’m going to wait to see if we can garner a few more international (interstellar?) reactions before replying, just so we don’t leave anyone who might want to participate but wasn’t on behind. In the meantime, here’s some “behind the scenes action” ;)

And I am a tired little fish, so off to my (water)bed I go!))

Emperor Taee sat with his closest advisors in the Tide Palace’s conference room. Unlike its human opposite numbers, the room was little more than a large, dome shaped room with a central console for projecting images adjusted for the water. Taee hung suspended in the water at one end with everyone else on the other side of the projector facing him - and hanging a little lower than his Imperial Majesty.

“The Sakkrans were the first to respond,” Leoluus was saying, “as one might expect.” He gestured at the three dimensional figure of Ambassador Bosska emanating from the central projector. The amusingly miniature figure was moving his lips, but making no sound. The translation of his speech was displayed on the walls. Unlike previous incidents, the translation was actually understandable; the Empire had splurged and acquired a real, live speaker fluent in both Sakkran and Trilarian to translate for these occasions.

“He dares to invoke the name of the Old One?” marveled General Laabrian. “That landwalking heathen?”

Leoluus made a loud rumbling noise to direct attention back to himself. “As I was saying, Your Majesty, Ambassador Bosska claims that ‘no-one of loyal standing’ in their empire would have committed such a heinous crime. Frankly, I’m inclined to agree with him. From what I understand, SPORE was a prized secret of the Sakkran government, and not something they would readily hand over to just about anyone, terrorists most certainly included.”

“But there were no bodies aboard the hulk that freighter,” Laabrian felt moved to point out. “It might well have been Sakkrans who were manning it!”

“The Gallant reported a water blow when her shot hit,” retorted Leoluus. “Not an atmosphere leak. Now, I’m sure the general has a perfectly ludicrous and xenophobic explanation - Sakkrans in diving suits or something - but I believe we can assume for the mean time that, yes, Trilarians were piloting that vessel.”

Leoluus expected at least some laughter at his prodding the reactionary general, but none was forthcoming. As incredulous as it seemed, most of his peers apparently favored Laabrian’s explanation of events! He inflated his cranial membrane, a usual sign of slight irritation, and bulled on.

“Ambassador Bosska has asked that His Imperial Majesty meet with His Majesty Emperor Gorrm of the Sakkrans as soon as possible. He suggests our colony on Sslaa IV as a possible neutral site.”

That sparked a reaction. All the ministers started shouting at once, each trying to be heard above the rest.

“Send His Majesty into the shark’s maw?”

“Those landwalking traitors would as soon eat him as see him!”

“Absolutely not! If this Gorrm is so desperate for understanding, let him come here!”

“I’ve never trusted Sakkrans, and I never will. I can never forgive them for the death of my boy.”

“We’re just supposed to let our monarch waltz right into the jaws of the trap they’ve set?”

“Fantastic: they level one of our only three worlds, and now we’re the ones who have to send His Majesty blindly off into their midst!?”

“Calm, calm,” rumbled Taee himself with a wave of his manipulators. “I have no intention of going to a Sakkran-controlled system, not just now. However, I will meet Gorrm. Let him come to Sanara. General, am I correct in assuming that two of the aquadomes are still intact?”

“Yes..” started Laabrian, but Taee cut him off before he could finish.

“Leoluus, you will tell Emperor Gorrm that I will meet him on Sanara Prime, between the Trilar and Sslaa systems.

“The lizard will probably like it there,” muttered someone towards the back, but no one heeded him.

“That might be provocative...” started Leoluus, but he was interrupted by four heavily armed Trilarian guards bursting through the door. There was a flurry of activity among the council, but this was no coup.

“We beg your pardon, Your Majesty,” rumbled the toughest of the lot, “but information that could not wait was brought to our attention.” He held aloft a datapad. Taee accepted it and took one, long look at the contents.

Then his right eye shifted upwards and centered on his Minister of Foreign Affairs.

“Leoluus,” he asked gravely. Each of the other council members thanked the Old One that not they were being called upon in such a tone.

“Y-Your Majesty?”

“According to this information, there have been seventeen calls from your chambers to Haamando Shipping, Incorporated.”

“Erm, I don’t believe so. What ever is...”

“Then perhaps you know that HS is a wholly owned subsidiary of Trilar Lines?”

“No, I did-”

“And that Boolanahaa Interstellar operates under the same umbrella corporation?”

Now Leoluus was frightened. His breathing membrane inflated and deflated rapidly.

“Your Majesty, I never -”

“Surely you know, then, that the freighter which leveled Sanara Prime’s largest aquadome was registered to Boolanahaa shipping? Honestly, Leoluus, how slow did you think our cunning was?”

“Majesty, you have to believe me! I never - that is, I’ve never even heard of Haamando shipping!”

“Take him away,” Taee said coldly. “Lock him in our driest dungeon. We shall see if he is telling the truth soon enough.”

“I’ve never trusted Sakkrans, and I never will. I can never forgive them for the death of my boy.”
(OOC: Now all we need is a conspirator hiding behind a door recording this to be used as "evidence" in a show trial... classic. Yay for being sooooo tired. ^_^ )

IC:

"What's the situation?" The CINCTYCS leans back, looking over the databoard handed him by his adjutant. The War Room deep within the TYCS fortress in Port Aurora is as it usually is; a small room dominated by screens and indicator boards that holds enough room for the Commander-In-Chief, Triumvirate of Yut Combined Services's desk, his adjutant's desk, and a few chairs for any visitors.

"It's an interesting one, sir," the adjutant replies, hands folded behind his back. "Several hundred thousand of this new species dead, and fingers are pointing at the Sakkrans because their proprietary SPORE technology was used."

"What about our own SPORE arsenals aboard the Chameleon corvettes? The special-purpose autolinegun rounds?" The Chinese commander-in-chief frowns. "Let's make sure our asses are covered as well."

"Every single one deployed is accounted for in the magazines. We're currently checking stockpile status."

"Sakkran connection?"

"Other than it's their technology, nothing definite. StratWANCC and PoliWANCC report that it wouldn't make any sense for the Sakkrans to do this to the Trilar--there's no political benefit and, as far as public records show, while relations have always been strained there haven't been much in the way of conflicts surrounding it."

The CINCTYCS nods. "What's PoliWANCC's estimation as to potential for this to escalate?"

"Unknown, but it's there. Analyses indicate that doing anything obvious would just make things worse."

Another slow, ponderous nod. "The Sixth Space Superiority is currently on exercises near Iapetus. Inform Sky Marshal Farentino that his fleet is now on standby to go outsystem if needed to help diffuse the situation; also, send orders to Sky Marshal Hayes of the First Expeditionary to also be on the ready. Alert status is at their discretion, but lips are to stay sealed except for fleet strategy sections. Get them working on contingencies immediately, coordinating through headquarters and MilWANCC."

"Acting, sir."

OOC: And to keep the post from disappearing totally, some behind-the-scenes action on my part. Whee for loose ends being tied up!

Many years ago, the fleet known as Task Force Delta was dispatched into the uncharted regions of space to hunt down the rouge AI known as Angelic Skies. Suffice it to say, they never found their quarry, but time away from the Empire for so long began to breed dissent amongst the crew of the various ships. A bloody mutinee was held, where the captain of the war-carrier Impetus slew the fleet commander, and took control of the fleet.

Recently they plied deep space, raiding hapless merchant fleets and pillaging helpless colonies for supplies and goods. But they still hold enmity for the Emperor, thinking him weak, and his rule innefficient. Keep in mind, they have been away for some time, and know nothing of the reforms since their departure.

Fleet Commander Llhaar sits in the command chair of the old Boa-class warship that serves as the command ship for his fleet. An ensign arrives on the bridge deep in the middle of the large craft, and bows.

Llhaar: "Report."

Ensign: "As we expected, the Trilarian craft delivered the 'package' successfully. However, their freighter was shot by a Trilarian military vessel before they could jump out of the system. No survivors."

L: "No survivors..." The commander scratched his scaly chin. "Good, good. We have attained our goal without losing any of our crafts, or being identified. I knew giving that stupid fish one of our rounds of SPORE would pay off. News from our old Emperor?"

E: "A comm was intercepted, but not rerouted, from the Sslaa system to the Trilarian system. They want to talk. Full denial has been expressed by the Emperor himself in a public press release."

L: "As expected. Knowing the Trilarians, they'll want to hold these .... 'talks' on their own land. The most logical assumption would be Sanara, so they may gloat over the wreckage a sakkran weapon has done, and feel justified in whatever insanity they'll insist on pursuing. I'll order the fleet to jump to sub-space and linger at the edges of their sensor range there. Knowing the weak hatchling of an Emperor as I do, he'll agree and rush over with almost no guard for himself. Maybe we can intercept them and do away with this sham of an Emperor."

Meanwhile, Thress has indeed formed a team of Inquisitors. They root through inventories both civilian and military, log records from the I.S.N. fleet captains, shipping manifests and anything else that may have a connection to the SPORE round that was used. Hours turn into days and Thress is starting to get quite exasperated, when Grall, one of the more recent inductees to the Inquisitors, pipes up.

"I think I have something!"

Thress turns her head swiftly, and makes her way over to the terminal Grall is using. Her eyes scan the manifest logs swiftly, then lands on the supply inventories for one of the task forces formed years past from a slew of inactive ships to hunt down a rogue AI.

Her eyes dilate as the report comes in from comm logs of the fleet losing contact. All this time it was presumed lost or destroyed. MIA in any case.

40 rounds of 20 meter SPORE orbital artillery munitions. She rises slowly, eyes seemingly staring into nothing before she utters lowly.

"That's it. I know it in my tympanum that this is where the errant round comes from." She then suddenly seems to animate again. "Get this to the Emperor A.S.A.P. And get me Admiral Shaar. She needs to see this! And I need more info on this Task Force from her. Crew manifest and all."

Palace of the Tides, Evenvent
Trilar, Trilar System, Trilarian Empire

The shadow of Leoluus Oraborus hung over the first meeting of the Council without him. The Minister of Foreign Affairs, for all that his liberalism exasperated Emperor Taee, had been one of the monarch’s favorites. If he could fall so quickly and on such circumstantial evidence, where did that leave the rest of them?

General Laabrian Jusataal had stepped into Leoluus’ shoes as Lord Chancellor, but even he was frightened of Taee in his current mood. The hot temper Laabrian had previously thrown around, which indeed characterized him to most Trilarians, was now absent. He was a Trilarian subdued and the Council sensed it. In this, the key meeting for the future of the Trilarian Empire, they chatted frivolously amongst each other, perhaps wondering what the fate of Minister Leoluus would be.

Laabrian made a low, rumbling noise to call attention back to himself. Slowly, the conversation ground to a halt and eyes focused back upon the General.

“I know we’re all interested in the fate of Oraborus,” he rumbled, “but really. We must at least try to get - “

“All of us are interested in Oraborus’ fate?” asked Aqualii Boorab, the Minister of Finance. “Even you, General? I find myself hardly able to believe that you felt anything more than pleasure as the dragged Minister Leoluus off the highest, brightest cell in Evenvent!” There was a rumble of assent.

“It does seem curious,” intoned Leoluus’ successor as Foreign Minister, Yerasael Tarsaam, “how you stepped directly into Leoluus’ shoes even as he was being put under arrest. You, the biggest critic of Leoluus’ extratrilarian faction; you, who constantly fought with Minister Leoluus over every matter of state.”

“Do you suggest, Sael, that my manipulators were somehow involved in ...what happened to Minister Leoluus?” asked Laabrian quietly, his cranial membrane inflating slightly.

“I merely lay out the facts,” replied Yerasael in the same tone. “And please: only friends call me ‘Sael.’”

“But we are ‘friends’ Sael? Do you need reminding that I am the Priatch of the Caeelvent?”

“I am well aware of your noble heritage, General, but we are in Evenvent. The claim here is too strong for your Fathom.” The general thrashed his tail in anger, but Yerasael backed down. “However, we may still be friends, Jusataal.”

“The we have work to be done,” said Laabrian, apparently satisfied with that answer. “Many are the responses which must be drafted to the interstellar community, and I fear I am not one wise in the way of words. Our Emperor must have a speech to give by tonight, and Sakkra and Scolopendra doubtlessly await our response to their communiqués.”

“Your pardon, Jusataal,” said Yerasael. Laabrian twitched his tail at the the continuing use of his informal name, but allowed the other to continue. “I have already composed those responses, and taken the liberty of writing a speech for His Majesty to give. I trust you don’t mind?”

Laabrian did mind very much, as a matter of fact; this was a direct attempt to usurp his authority as Lord Chancellor! - but there was very little he could do about it. Being Priatch of a brood, especially one whose claim was as poor as Caeelvent’s, didn’t count for very much in the Council. “Very well,” he said, grinding out each word. “Display your work.”

Yerasael inserted a datacache into his console and fiddled with the controls. Words flowed out onto the screens of each of the podiums across the room.

Laabrian didn’t want to admit it, but Yerasael’s work was damned good. He released a bit of gas from his swim bladder and sunk towards his podium a little farther.

“This is a good start,” he said, waving a manipulator casually at Yerasael. “We shall work from this.”

-------

Addressed to His Majesty Emperor Gorrm of the Sakkrans
Care of Ambassador Bosska, Sslaa V Diplomatic Offices

We are glad to know that the Sakkrans stand with Us in these trying times. We appreciate all Your offers of help, but We must turn them down at this time. Tensions run high between Our empire and Yours, and We fear that there might be an incident should Our people come in contact with Yours.

We would be happy to meet with You as soon as possible, but We are afraid that Sslaa IV is simply not an acceptable meeting place. Our council fears for Our safety should We leave Trilarian space. We do offer a compromise, however: will You meet us on the world of Sanara Prime, between Our capital and Yours? Our military assures us that there is no residual danger and that the system is completely locked down; at this moment, it is the safest place in Our empire.

By the Old One We remain,

Eaalaril Taee
IMP TRILARIAN

Addressed to Advisor Automata Alshai Kommetrez

We are truly humbled by your concern for Our well being. However, we must decline the use of your honorable Intelligence service; we feel that Our Office of Intelligence is making considerable inroads. Already, We have a suspect in custody and are expecting to soon learn the identity of his coconspirators.

We are certain that the Sakkrans, despite the evidence about the munition gathered thus far, did not perpetuate this most heinous of crimes. Emperor Gorrm himself has written to Us and We trust in his word and that of his people.

By the Old One We remain

Eaalaril Taee
IMP TRILARIAN

“...and rest assured that the atrocity, the calamity, the complete and utter tragedy which struck Sanara Prime shall not go unavenged. Already, the Intelligence Office is hard at work connecting clues and following traces; soon, we shall know those who could be so unprincipled, indeed so barbaric, as to engage is such a work of destruction.

“The razing of Sanara was not the work of a government; it was the work of a few possibly deranged individuals who are so loathsome, so without herpatra that they may not be considered sentient at all. It is as if a hand reached down straight from hell and swept away all that is holy and sacred.

“We all lost many broodmates in this terrible disaster, this attack upon our way of life. We shall seek out those responsible and make sure they are held accountable for their vile deeds...”

((NB: If anyone reading this hasn’t the least idea what a Trilarian is, or why they dislike/are disliked by the Sakkrans so much, here’s (http://www.mithyk.com/stationprime/race_ichthytosian.htm) a darned good website explaining (pretty much) the whole thing. There’s a ton of other good info there, too. For less detailed knowledge, here (http://moo3.quicksilver.com/cool/e3/images/pic_trilarian.gif) is what a Trilarian looks like and here (http://moo3.quicksilver.com/cool/sept/triE3test.avi) is a spiffy little animation of one.))

Gorrm recieves the message from Director Thress, detailing the crew manifests of the Lost Fleet, psychological profiles, cargo manifests and all petinent information for her case to be made. He reads it thoughtfully, with open secure comms to general gaarm, Admiral Shaar and Ambassador Bosska.

"Hrrrmmmm....I would say that this is indeed a probable source of our problems. I will contact the Sakkran branch of the Rangers to find this fleet, and report when they are found. Admiral Shaar, General Gaarm; I trust you can handle it?" His eyes look at both holographic images in turn.

They both salute, and answer as one. "With great prejudice, Emperor."

"Good, good. Ambassador Bosska, what news from the Trilarians?"

"I have uplinked their response to you. It should show ... now."

Next to the image of the Ambassador scrolled the reply sent, complete with miniaturized image of the sender in question.


We are glad to know that the Sakkrans stand with Us in these trying times. We appreciate all Your offers of help, but We must turn them down at this time. Tensions run high between Our empire and Yours, and We fear that there might be an incident should Our people come in contact with Yours.

We would be happy to meet with You as soon as possible, but We are afraid that Sslaa IV is simply not an acceptable meeting place. Our council fears for Our safety should We leave Trilarian space. We do offer a compromise, however: will You meet us on the world of Sanara Prime, between Our capital and Yours? Our military assures us that there is no residual danger and that the system is completely locked down; at this moment, it is the safest place in Our empire.

By the Old One We remain,

Eaalaril Taee
IMP TRILARIAN

"Hrrrmmm...recommendations?" Gorrm looks to Thress, and Bosska.

Bosska answers first. "My Emperor, I have confidence that security is as they state. However, we should not rule out that ... individuals .... will be quite incensed at what has transpired, and would like your head. One cannot control all their subjects all the time. Understandable as their request is, you must also be concerned for your continued well being."

"Noted. Director Thress, your recommendation?"

"I recommend your Honor Guard be with you at all times. Soecifically the Deep Ones. They can work in the Trilarian liquid medium far easier than we, and will be excellent bodyguards for yourself. I also recommend you take with you the dossier I have prepared for you, to show what we have found. It would make not only an excellent gesture of good will, but also a gesture that we will not harbor terrorists, even if they are ex-patriates of the Empire."

"Noted. I approve this. Contact TYCS HQ and apprise them as to our plans. Have a squadron of Deep Ones briefed as to their mission, and what to expect. Make sure their translator brooches are in top condition. I will contact Vubz System Coordination and have them assign an escort fleet, and get the Tiamat commander on the horn. I will arrive in a vessel befitting this situation. Bosska, send a reply to the Trilarian Emperor. It will read as so....."


<<Transmit Begins>>
<<Emperor Gorrm>>
<<Herpetological Empire of Sakkra>>
<<Directive: Emperor Eaalaril Taee>>
<<Trilarian Empire>>

Greetings to you, Emperor Taee,
I have discussed with my advisors, and have found your request reasonable. I will arrive at the Sanara Prime location specified, with my personal Honor Guard. I trust in your words when you state that it is the safest place in your Empire, but my advisors insist I take precautions, as even a place that can seem safe, may become perilous in a single moment. I hope these talks will bear fruit for us both.

May the Pantheon guide you.
Emperor Gorrm
<<Transmit Ends>>

"What is with everyone and having splinter fleets dedicated to making our jobs more difficult?" The CINCTYCS tosses the databoard onto his desk with a disgusted motion, leaning back into his chair as his eyes flick over the three-dimensional map of the space around Triumvirate territories. "So now we have to chase down a fleet sent to chase down a base flung to the distant corners of Angelan force projection? Wonderful."

"Our Roving Cruiser Squadrons have reported convoy raids along some of our nearer colonies, but none of the newer ones." The adjutant frowns, leaning against the doorframe into the War Room. "That does support the theory of a rogue fleet that lacks our most recent secure information."

"That also indicates a very probable leak of the location of our colonies," the commander-in-chief replies with a growl, "and that breach of operational security is a major threat to our defensive posture there. The militia elements, infantry and Vipers are there mostly as a calming influence. The system defense fortresses are powerful, but they can't take a prolonged assault by the total forces that could be arrayed against them without resorting to a war of mobility, which would leave the colony worlds otherwise defenseless. We'll have to accelerate production of the Guard Fleets if we can... but you know what this means right now."

The adjutant nods. "The rogue Sakkrans are a clear threat to Triumvirate operational security."

"They're a leak that we need to plug, preferably full of holes." The CINCTYCS frowns. "The Jovian theatre is cool at the moment. Direct Sky Marshals Hayes and Farentino to prepare for squadron operations, and tell Sky Marshals Héafod and Kutusov to ready the Second and Third Space Superiorities to support this endeavour.

"Inform Sky Marshal Hayes that she is now commanding officer of an emergency hunter-killer taskforce and to stand by for additional information. I'll get strategic information from the Sakkran navy and see if the Galactic Exploration Command sensors have picked up anything. On your way, get a codename for the task force from the computer. Standard operating procedure."

"Acting, sir." The adjutant nods quickly and steps out of the room as the Asian man leans into his desk, fingers flying over contacts and quickcall keys.

TO: Headquarters, ISN
FR: CINCTYCS
SJ: Plugging Holes (into Threats)

The rogue elements are a direct threat to Triumvirate security due to the fact they have secure information as to the locations of our colony worlds. I have established hunter-killer squadrons to track them down and hopefully eliminate them as threats, taking commanding officers captive to determine if the information has been divulged and, if so, to whom.

I thus request information on this lost fleet as well as tactical and strategic advise on how to best subdue them if contact is made. Looking over your reports of readying Rangers, know that you can count on the support of at least the First Triumvirate Expeditionary Force and the Sixth Space Superiority Fleet, combined into a task force yet to be named.

Good hunting.

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/nationstates/scolopendra/cinctycs.gifCINCTYCS
Commander-in-Chief
Triumvirate of Yut Combined Services

"Well, we hoped to keep this situation 'at home' as the saying goes. But if the Lost Fleet is indeed, well, no longer lost and harrassing Triumvirate colonies....it does fall into their jurisdiction, doesn't it?" Sub-Commander Twaarl looked at the back-lit form of Admiral Shaar. The motion she was making indicated a rubbing of her temple area.

"Aye, it does. The Rangers have been briefed, yes?"

"They have, sirrah. Already a contingent of the new Corsaire class cruisers are crewed and undergoing final checks at the Docks. As always, they maintain a constant state of readiness."

"That, at least, is some manner of good news. Very well. Send a comm to CINCTYCS. Give them schematics of the ships sent on that damnable mission, crew manifests and psych profiles. The whole thing."

"Yes, sirrah"


To: CINCTYCS
Fr: ISN HQ; Sub-Commander Twaarl
Sub: Info requested

The rogue fleet had been designated Task Force Delta. It is comprised of previous-generation ISN ships, meaning the ships are pre-sentient technology. Schematics, capabilities and crew capacities are included in the packet attached. (Packet goes here)

Numbers of ships total 35. The majority comprises 22 Caiman-class corvettes. 5 Boa-class Warcarriers, 7 Wyvern-class Warships and one Komodo-class Command Ship. All ships have SPORE ammunition as well as gelignite rounds. Caimans tend to feature 3 Brilliant Pebbles Anti-Warship Drone Missiles on top of their standard armament.

If engaging, it is recommended to use extreme range weaponry. Ballistic weaponry, such as gauss cannons, are more effective than energy weaponry against the diffusion shields. Torpedoes and missiles will also tend to be difficult to use, as the shields jam targetting sensors. Emission sensors attached to these forms of armament, however, will work very well against these ships.

Cripple the carriers first, as they host an array of interceptor-style fighters, bombers and gunboats in their hangars. These are used in swarming tactics at closest ranges, and have proven swift and sure, but not well armored.

Also, as these are previous-generation ships, they will operate at a reduced efficiency than otherwise. Stalls in command-execution will prove advantageous.

I hope this helps in your hunt. We are triangulating possible locations of this fleet at the moment.

Sub-Commander Twaarl
INS HQ

"And this," muses the CINCTYCS as he forwards the information, "is why we maintain ballistic and graviballistic weapons on our ships."

TYWS-BB Scolomorph
Earth Orbit

The technician tears the onionskin printout and hands it down to Sky Marshal Hayes, who looks over it quickly with her brown eyes. "Well. This should turn out to be an interesting hunt. A squadron should achieve parity, at this rate... long-range physical bombardment by Tigers, SupEmps, and Grendels should help. We'll just have to clear out the attendant vessels and disable the flagships with EMP breachers before boarding it."

"Boarding, ma'am?" Flag General Liebermann, Hayes' executive officer, frowns from his seat. "I don't really like the sound of that, especially with Sakkrans involved."

"That's why we have Beaducaf and stun gas," replies Hayes. "It'll be messy, but probably necessary. Scolomorph?"

The ship's avatar, a one-meter claymation penguin in a little TYCS uniform, opens its eyes and looks up. "Yess'm?"

"Could you please work with StratCom to come up with the best strategies for taking these things? I'm sure Asgwrn i'w Grafu will want to work with you on that."

"Sure thing, ma'am." The penguin nods. "Anything else?"

"Just the usual action-prep."

"Got it." The avatar goes back into a near-slumber, looking mildly cartoonish in its meditation.

Sirithil's eyes went wide as she opened the folder full of flexsheets and datapads that Serendis had tossed onto her desk. She read for a moment, her eyes widening further with every passing moment. "Well, this is bad."

"Yes, indeed, milady. It seems a Sakkran SPORE round took out a hundred thousand Trilarians in the Sanara system. Very ugly situation, given that both sides hate each other, for the most part."

"Yes, but there have been official attempts at reconciliation," Sirithil mused. "There's no benefit to either government... hmmm... rogue elements, eh?"

"Yes, milady," Serendis confirmed. "Both sides have already opened investigations... but sometime soon their paths will cross, and they'll start pointing fingers at each other. They will accuse each other of being biased; it is almost certain. Such things have rarely ended well before."

"Hmmm... probably accusing each other of setting the other up. Which could very well spiral to war... thank you, Serendis. I will think on this, and inform you and the rest of the Synod about my decision shortly."

"Of course, milady."

----

Communiqués sent from Menelmacar to the Sakkran and Trilarian Emperors:

Honored Emperor Eaalaril Taee,

It was with great sadness that we of Menelmacar learned of the tragic and heinous attack upon your Sanara Prime colony. The thoughts of the Noldorin people are with the families of the victims in this trying time.

We wish to know if there is anything we can do to help. Specifically, aid in reconstruction, and most importantly in the investigation. We understand that both you and the Sakkrans have opened investigations, however this incident has surely heightened tensions, and two opposing investigations could have the result of heightening tensions further. Therefore, we propose to form a neutral investigation in hopes of deconstructing this incident and bringing those responsible to justice in a fashion that will satisfy both empires. With Menelmacar having friendly relations with both Trilarians and Sakkrans, we believe we can help resolve this crisis.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,
~Lady Sirithil nos Fëanor
Elentári of Menelmacar

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

Honored Emperor Gorrm,

It was with great shock and dismay that we of Menelmacar learned of the tragic and heinous attack upon the Trilarian colony at Sanara Prime. We emphasize, however, that we do not have any reason that your government is responsible.

Instead, we wish to know if there is anything we can do to help. Specifically, aid in the investigation. We understand that both you and the Trilarians have opened investigations, however this incident has surely heightened tensions, and two opposing investigations could have the result of heightening tensions further. Therefore, we propose to form a neutral investigation in hopes of deconstructing this incident and bringing those responsible to justice in a fashion that will satisfy both empires. With Menelmacar having friendly relations with both Sakkrans and Trilarians, we believe we can help resolve this crisis.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,
~Lady Sirithil nos Fëanor
Elentári of Menelmacar

---------

A fleet - specifically, the Fourteenth - was also immediately dispatched to Sanara, in hopes they would arrive there about the same time Siri got responses from the two Emperors. Until the responses arrived, the ships would wait just inside the Sanaran Kuiper Belt, before approaching the planet.

“Has the message been sent to Gorrm?” rumbled Taee as his shuttle broke through to the surface of Trilar and clawed its way towards the sky.

“Your Majesty, we have sent him instructions on the approach to Sanara, the general extent of our military forces in the area, and all the other data we thought pertinent*. We also assured him that his guard would be acceptable.”

“It most certainly is not,” replied Taee, “but I would insist upon the same myself. I must know what this landwalker is up to. Although I anticipate and pray there will be no hostilities, at least we will have them underwater, in our domain.”

Taee nodded and settled in for the long trip from Trilar to Sanara.

Sanara System

Orange-finned warship patrol the system is task forces of between two and seven. Most are old; all have seen better days. Some of the crafts’ hulls bear strange damage marks; relics from the brief, mysterious Antaran War. All in all, there are no more than thirty Trilarian vessels, and only two - the large missile cruisers Repulse and Revenge - seem even up to the Trilarian’s current technology par.

And yet they have strained every nerve and muscle to assemble this much force between the starlanes to Sslaa and Trilar. Their other border is ‘guarded’ by a single, notoriously cranky and old scout ship; the home system itself has only the three Hawk class ships of its defense squadron. There are no ships left in the reserve.

Everyone is waiting for the Sakkran Emperor to arrive.

((* - yeah, I’m being vague for a reason. I figure it’s easier than screwing up. ;)

As for the tech level of my ships and other equipment, you should consider it at least three to four steps below whatever the current ToY standards are.

Menelmacar's reply coming soon. Just noticed the post!))

EDIT: stupid verb tenses.

Shortly after receipt of the Menelmacari* transmission:

To Lady Sirithil nos Fëanor,

It was with great joy that We received your letter. Your sympathy is most comforting to Us. We also do not currently have any reason to suspect the Sakkrans; they are an honorable people, and their Emperor Gorrm most of all.

However, We must currently decline your offer for help in Our investigation. While it is most appreciated, We currently feel that Our Office of Intelligence is well up to the job. Due to the physiological incompatibilities between Trilarians and Elves, We are afraid that your people’s doubtlessly enormous contributions might be undone by high pressure water and bulky breathing apparatus. We are truly sorry.

Hopefully, the tie between Trilar and all Our allies may emerge stronger than ever in the wake of this tragedy.

By the Old One We remain

Eaalaril Taee
IMP TRILARIAN

((*correct?))

Honored Emperor Eaalaril Taee,

We thank you for your prompt reply, and regret that we cannot be of greater help in this matter. However, we have ships in the region, and if there is anything we can do on your behalf, you need only to ask.

Sincerely,

~Lady Sirithil nos Fëanor
Elentári of Menelmacar

To: Lady Sirithil nos Fëanor
Elentári of Menelmacar
Fr: Emperor Gorrm
Empire of Sakkra

Lady Sirithil,

It is an honor to receive your communique. At this time, however, our investigations have borne fruit. While a neutral investigation would normally be a good idea, this may contain sensitive information we wish to remain in our hands.

That is not to say we could not use your assist. I.S.N. HQ has sent information the the CINCTYCS, and they will most likely sending several task forces out to hunt down the brigands. We have activated the Sakkran chapter of the Rangers. They will be glad for your assistance in any way. Currently the rendezvous point for them is the Vubz System Coordination base in Sslaa.

May your hunt be glorious.
Emperor Gorrm
********************************************************

Gorrm hits the send button on his mobile messenger, and grins. The traitors have little chance now. His personal shuttle nears the Vubz System Coordination base, which is basically a hollow moon with a population of five major cities in it. This is where the I.S.N. 'grows' its ships, outfits them, crews them, and briefs/debriefs them.

The shuttle enters one of the six entryways, which stretch 4 kilometers high and wide, allowing almost any ship ever constructed entrance. Patrol corvettes fly outward from the center of the base in formation, and furl one of their solar sails at the approach of the Emperor's shuttle. A salute amongst the full-sentient ships.

The center of the base is a flurry of activity. Gorrm can see the escort fleet all about inside this space, including the Imperial Flagship, Tiamat. A single sail is furled from each of the ships, and the Emperor gives the approximation of a grin. "Beautiful. Just .... beautiful. Remind me to give high commendations to the Gene-mod Technicians in the near future."

His personal assistant pulls up her datapad and makes a note of it. "My liege, your personal Honor Guard are on your flagship. They have been briefed as to their role and purpose."

The shuttle docks, and the hatch opens with a hiss. "Good. I'll make sure their uniforms are within regulations. Is there a data cache on the Trilarians and their customs on-ship?"

"Yes, my liege. They have sent information on the system as well. Sanara is quite dry on the surface for our comfort, so I took the liberty of adding rebreathers for you and your guard."

"Good." The maintanence crews salute as the Emperor leaves the shuttle, and walks towards the Tiamat, giving swift salutes of his own. After a brief walk, he boards his ship.

An Ensign calls out "Emperor on board!" The Imperial Anthem is played, and Gorrm is pleased. Another Ensign shows the Emperor and his assistant to their quarters, bows low and disappears to go about his duties.

"Taimat, are you prepared?" He seems to speak to no-one in particular.

A voice issues out that seems to come from everywhere. "Greetings, Emperor. I am nearly prepared. They are still loading food stores in my lower bay for the Handlers. All cybernetic attachments are operating well, and the P-space connections show 3.5% lag. Well within nominal measures. Harmony Drive Sub-Space engines have been maintained, and is operating well. I just did a test spin-up several minutes ago. It has been some time since your last visit."

Gorrm gives a loud 'PHOOT' from his nostrils. "I know, I know. Business keeps me at home. You know where we're going, and what we might expect, right?"

"Yes. I am prepared for an eventuality. Reaction time has improved with training and practice. The Handlers say i'm fit as the day I was hatched. Arrival time in the Sanara System approximates three and a half cycles."

"Good, good. Tell the other ships to get underway as soon as they are ready. We can not waste a moment we don't need to."

After a half-hour passes, with the Emperor making small talk with Tiamat and his assistant, the fleet leaves the System base. At the edge of the Sslaa System, harmony drives spin up.

The Handlers (AKA the crew of the ship) check spatial resonations and match them. The ships seem to just slip into empty space, and vanish with no visual effects or fanfare of any note.

The cycles pass with no mishap. The flagship Tiamat sounds general call, alerting the Handlers that the Sanara system is coming into range of sub-light drives. The Handlers make the preparations for returning to real-space. Meanwhile, the Emperor is taking a cat-nap.

His assistant presses the door-summons repeatedly to no avail before using her security over-ride. The prostrate form of Gorrm in his heat-chamber greets her. He starts to stir as she shuts down the chamber slowly. There was no sense in causing undue alarm. "My liege, we are coming into range of Sanara Prime. You requested I waken you when we do so."

Gorrm rubs his eyes a bit to get the sleep-sand out of them, and dons his robes. "So I did. What have the Tiamat's sensors picked up?" He ambles over to his wash station, and procures a jar of scented oils from the Dread Dominion. Aah, sesame oil. My favorite.

"Sensors have picked up 33 ships in this sector. We are not in range to determine if weapons are active. Numerous orbital sattelite stations have been located as well. What are your orders?"

Gorrm coats his scales in the oil, and looks one eye towards his aide. "Have the Tiamat contact their traffic control directly. Landing protocols, announcement of our arrival. All that. Have the escort fleet maintain a delta-wing formation behind us."

"As you wish, my liege." She turns and walks out, the door closing quietly behind her.

***********************************************************
http://www.5amfunnies.com/sakkra/emp.JPG
"Sanara Prime traffic control, this is the Imperial Flagship Tiamat. I am requesting landing coordinates and protocols for the arrival of Emperor Gorrm, who is meeting with Emperor Taee. Please respond." The 15 ship fleet slows at the edge of the system, awaiting a response.

TMS Revenge
Sanara System, Trilarian Empire

The Trilarian missile ship came about slowly and gracefully, its unneeded fins making it seem almost like a fish swimming through the void. Her sister and five escort ships plodded dutifully along in perfect formation. The Trilarian ships had their weapons powered down, but they ran parallel to the Sakkran fleet and kept their distance.

The Empire’s military doctrine - if such a generous term could be applied to the dangerously obsolescent navy - was to maintain distance and fling clumps of missiles. Tactical simulations and war games usually centered around the battle between countermeasures and countercountermeasures. In theory, it all worked very well. In practice? That remained to be seen.

Since the disaster, the Trilarian military had taken complete control of the system’s civilian control centers. All traffic was being directed through the military. However, all traffic was also military in nature, as the system was quarantined.

“Tiamat, this is the Revenge of the Imperial Trilarian Navy. Coordinates transmitting now. We request the main fleet stay in the outskirts of the system.” The curtness of the messages wasn’t necessarily intended; fleet didn’t have its own live translators. Admirals usually preferred to avoid grandoise language which could easily be mistranslated. Of course, regarding the Sakkra, perhaps that wasn’t all a bad thing.

The Tiamat was instructed that Emperor Gorrm was to be delivered to Bandavent, one of the intact aquadomes. Emperor Taee had already arrived; despite the Trilarians’ inferior FTL technology, Sanara was simply much closer to Trilar than Sslaa.

"Confirmed, Revenge. Stand by." The signal clicks off. Gorrm had listened in discreetly at the exchange. "Revenge, yes? An interesting name for a ship in this circumstance." The aide looks at him quizzically.

"My liege, do you think it wise to kep the fleet back? What if one of the Trilarian vessels gets trigger-happy and fires on you?" Her data-stream monocle was lifted upwards.

"If that is the case, then the fleet is ordered to 'dispense appropriate measures'. Other than that, we have to make a gesture. The Tiamat will establish synchronous orbit above Sanara Prime. Have the Honor Guard board the drop-ship and situate themselves. And yourself as well. The escort fleet will remain behind." This was stated matter-of-factly, with no room for question.

"As you wish, my liege." The aide obviously did not approve, but resigned herself anyway. It was a voice like one expecting their own doom. She strode out the Emperor's chambers while he readied himself.

"Revenge, this is Tiamat. We are disengaing from the escort fleet and approaching." The flagship pulled forward, while the fleet remained behind. The captain of the ship sent a general call to all hands.

"All Handlers to their stations. If any ships start powering weapons or tries gaining firing protocols, I want the closest ships painted. Sensor stations, open up a hack to the fleet. Let them see what we see. Set recorders. If there's an incident, I want it recorded."

Synchronous orbit is attained, and the Reptavian dropship is launched towards Bandavent. Atmospheric insertion is made, with light jarring inside the craft. The Deep Ones serving as Honor Guard are strapped into their gel-cushion seats as well as the Emperor and his aide. VTOL wings fold outwards, and the turbo-thrust engines rotate to reduce speed and touch down.

The hatch opens, and a pair of the Honor Guard exit the drop-ship first, wearing rebreather masks over their nostrils. their uniform consists of a sash bearing the Imperial insignia over their lobster-like spiny hides. Gorrm and his aide exit behind them, with the remaining four guards taking positions to the sides ans rear of him.

(OOC: Piccy fun!)
http://www.5amfunnies.com/sakkra/GOR.jpg

While this was occuring, the Rangers arrived at Vubz station for outfitting and briefing. Their ships were brieffed individually on their mission.

Force Sub-Commander Sshrakkaa, under Force Commander Oorou, has misgivings about this mission. "We're supposed to hunt down our own? My apologies, sir. But this just seems .... wrong."

Oorou nods slightly. "I know, but remember, they are no longer our own. They are pirates and mutineers. Disloyal to Emperor and Empire. And so they will be meeted treatment as such. If you have qualms about it, I suggest you either quash them, or retire from this mission."

Sshrrakkaa closes her eyes briefly, then opens them again. The blue irises of her eyes dilate, and she stiffens up a bit. "No qualms, sir. They will meet their fate." She hoists her Ranger-issue Personal EM Quad-Cannon, and runs a system check on the targetting sensors.

"Very good. Now we wait for the Menelmacari and the TYCS Task Force DIPTYCH. We have taken a cue from them to assign the Lost Fleet the name Fleet Rabid. They are no longer lost, but are indeed like a rabid Newt, and so this seemed appropo. Now we need to feed. Empty stomachs make for poor performance."

The flight path system control designated for the Sakkrans to follow passed straight over the ruins of the largest aquadome. Although it was being repaired, the ghastly acid-like scar still gaped open, a metallic remnant of the carnage. On the desert floor, there was a more potent reminder; hundreds of Trilarians in specialized pressure buggies scoured the landscape, picking up whatever remained of bodies and prized possessions. Many of the buggies’ external lenses, which flashed in the bright light, swiveled upwards to track the imperial shuttle as it descended towards Bandavent.

The Sakkrans were directed to a landing port designed specifically for non-Trilarians. Although it protected from the elements of Sanara, the dock was also (fortunately) not flooded with high pressure water. A (poor quality) holograph of a female Trilarian welcomed Gorrm with manipulators outstretched.

“Greetings, Your Imperial Majesty,” the image ‘said.’ Gorrm might notice, however, that the sound was not very well synched with the lips; Trilarian and Sakkran were hard languages to translate and dub between. “And welcome to Sanara Prime. I am Haal Jeoorii” - the name was in the original Trilarian, which sounded roughly like a small avalanche underwater - “the Priatch of the Bandavent. His Majesty Emperor Taee has sent me to greet you and direct you to the meeting chambers.

“Your Majesty,” she continued, addressing Gorrm, “If you and your honor guard would be so kind as to enter our special imperial transport, we can be on our way.”

Markers for a passage lit up when Haal mentioned the transport and simple line drawings of a small, spherical submarine appeared on various monitors.

“The transport is to insure that Your Majesty’s stay here in Bandavent is as convenient as possible. We have provided a Sakkran-adjusted quarters and a specialized meeting room, but you and your escorts will doubtlessly want free run of the colony.”

The soft lights continued to blink, directing Gorrm and his company down the corridor.

The sound of rumbling, and the grinding and clicking of mouth-plates from the Honor Guard could be heard, as well as gesticulating and clacking from their massive claws, and Gorrm's translator picked it up.

"So they could not send real being to greet us?"

"They fear."

"Not fear. Caution."

"Agreement. They do not breathe as we."

"Comprehended. This chamber would be filled with water."

"Fine for us. Not fine for Emperor."

A wave of the Emperor's hand, and the grinding stops. "Keep alert. We do not know what we are walking into. They gave the approach path so we may see what one of our weapons has done." He lifts out the small case containing the data cache, detailing the investigations from the Skeen.

"They have no love for us, and I would not expect them to. But remain silent, and vigilant." His hand waves, and they proceed down the lit corridor towards the transport, and the meeting chambers.

As they walk, the Emperor addresses the holographic image, wondering if it is programmed to respond to queries, or simply pre-programmed. "Free reign of the colony? Perhaps some manner of tour, but free reign ... that would be assuming too much."

His mind envisions he and his Guard having this free reign, and being assassinated by a furious Trilarian from a distance. A hand signal is given, and the Honor Guard close in to the Emperor a bit tighter on all sides.

The holographic image of Priatch Jeoorii had been left behind on its transmitter, but her voice accompanied Gorrm down the corridor. The image and voice were both live footage of a Trilarian; the Empire’s artificial intelligence and avatar technology was not very advanced.

“Apologies, Your Majesty,” she said with what translated as a laugh. “I misspoke. My authorities would prefer that you try to avoid the pressure control room or such sensitive areas, but the public areas - library, shopping centers, and that sort of thing - are yours to explore, if you’d care. I imagine there’ll be time for a short tour, if you’d like one, after the initial conference.”

The transport was large enough to comfortably fit Gorrm and his party. Both parts of a two-part airlock system were open, however, and there was no way for the deep ones to actually make it into the water. Frankly, the Trilarians had no idea who or what they were.

“The controls are fairly simple; much like a training spacecraft,” Jeoorii was explaining. Her face appeared on one of the smaller screens. “However, because time is of the essence, my people will be guiding your ship this time, Your Majesty. Departing - now.”

With a slight shudder, the doors closed behind the Sakkrans. Then the transport was released and propelled itself out of the docking area.

Bandavent wasn’t completely dark; it was that sickly color of the deep ocean just before the sun’s light fades completely. One could see just well enough to appreciate the scale of the construction. It was an entire underwater city, like the grandest on Mother Trilar, that stretched for miles in all directions and miles down.

Trilarian architecture had not changed much since the legendary days of the War of the Depths. Like all other aspects of the culture, it was deeply rooted in convention and tradition. Buildings towered out of the black abyss that was the bottom of the aquadome - indeed, Gorrm might wonder just how far down the colony reached! - like giant pillars. They were specially placed and adjusted to channel the artificial currents in Bandavent into underwater superhighways, just as they were on Trilar.

Gorrm’s craft slipped into one such current and the quiet hum of the engines faded to barely present background noise. Gorrm might wonder how fast they were going or how far they were going; in the gloomy twilight of the aquatic colony, distances were greatly exaggerated.

At first the buildings seemed a dull brown-green color, but the transport’s weak forward lights revealed them to be painted in brilliant tones. To a Trilarian, whose ability to pick out colors and movement in the mirky water was superior to Sakkrans or humans (but perhaps not Deep Ones) the city was a cheery and vibrant place. Every now and then, Gorrm might be able to see dark green (almost invisible, in fact) eel-like shapes darting back and forth through the water. Those were Bandavent’s police, who were clearing a way for the transport as it crossed through the city.

“You’re almost to the System Seat now,” said Jeoorii. “There, hopefully, we’ll be able to meet in person. In the meantime, are there any questions which I may answer for you?”

((sorry about the abrupt ending; something came up. Oh, and for the transport: my mental image of it is like that shuttle from the “OMG! We have a new model!” section of ST:TMP, only spherical. Right, I’m off.))

EDIT: new, improved ending!

TYWS-BB Scolomorph
Earth Orbit

"Confirmation recieved from ISNHQ. Gorrm's in position, but no sign of RABID."

Sky Marshal Hayes nods. "Nothing from the GEC or the Rangers?"

"The Rangers said they were triangulating RABID's position, but we've no definite location yet."

"Can't hurt to have a few more defenses on site," the Sky Marshal murmurs, folding her hands in thought as she leans back into the utilitarian chair of her console. "The Menelmacari may have the entire Fourteenth Fleet there, but their reaction times have been historically slow and our sentient ship-minds will give us the advantage in time we need. StratCom, hat's the status of the Sixth Space Superiority?"

The strategic command officer glaces down at his console. "At last scheduled QE transmit, Farentino reported he was en route to the Ssla Theatre at full compression. Try and cool off the recharge times necessary if we have to tesseract."

"Good idea. Rico's got Earth Theatre down tight... but standing here is as good as anywhere else. FleetCom, put the fleet at Event Condition One. I want every squadron to be ready to jump at a moment's notice. Comm, inform ISNHQ that DIPTYCH is ready. The instant we see the threat, we can pounce on them."

The fleet command and communication officers in different parts of the officer's semicircle nod with a call of "Acting, ma'am" and get to their designated tasks. With the soft blare of a klaxon, the lighting takes an orange tint, as it does all across the fourty-eight vessels of the First Triumvirate Expeditionary Force. The attitudes aboard the warships, already at general quarters, becomes more intent, a sort of suppressed-nervous steely attention.

"A final bit," Hayes broaches. "Get ISNHQ to update our shipminds with the local coordinate system to aid in immediate deployment--"

"Already done, ma'am," the smooth, simple penguinform avatar of Scolomorph replies. "We'll be ready; don't worry."

Hayes chuckles and shakes her head. "I know we've been through a lot, 'Morph, but I'm still getting used to you actually having personality and initiative rather than just personification."

"Oh, I know. At least it was a positive personification--makes my job a lot better!" The ship's avatar claps its fin-like wings happily.

Vubz System Coordination Base: Sslaa System

Commander Oorou gathers together the crews of the 18 ships, and has a live feed linked directly to the ships for the briefing. It is being recorded for the benefit of those they are coordinating this effort with.

"Rangers, we're hunting down a rogue fleet, code-named FLEET RABID. This fleet is full of ex-patriates of the Empire of Sakkra. They have been harrassing merchant ships and colonies on the outer edges of the known systems. Your task is to find them, and report in. Do not engage unless either ordered to do so, or you are fired upon." A map comes up on the holographic screen in a globed shape visible from every angle.
http://www.5amfunnies.com/sakkra/spacemapcopy.gif

"This is a map of the known territories. Green checker marks are the space-lanes Task Force Hunter will be charged with searching. White checker marks will be for Task Force Searcher. All these marks are areas where Fleet Rabid have been reported as striking. Intel suggests that some of these areas are not hit by Fleet Rabid, but it has been reported that Imperial Technology has been used in these raids in these areas. We will follow all leads in this. Each TF will break into groups of two, operating at a distance of 100,000 Ks from each other to expand area coverage while keeping communication distance."

"Sub-commander Zzhaal, you will front Task Force Hunter. Sub-Commander Hheerat; Task Force Searcher. There will be a third task force. TF Watcher. Sub-Commander Sshrrakkaa, you will head this. Watcher will follow the Emperor's fleet to the Sanara Prime system, and start a search in that area. Since it is weaponry from the Lost Fleet that was used in this system, we will assume that they are possibly in this area as well.I will coordinate from here, relaying findings to our associates in this capacity."

The assembled Rangers mumble amongst themselves a bit. Words such as 'Space Madness', 'Needles and Haystacks' and 'Sub-space Hallucinations' are heard over the din. The Commander taps for attention. "We have outfitted your crafts with holo-comm systems, and entertainment modules in your P-Space shunts. As per S.O.P. you will operate in four shifts on each craft to ease the tension. I suggest you make good use of this. Now get going, and may the Pantheon guide your hunt."

The crews stand and salute, and file out towards their crafts.

Sanara Prime

The small submersible transport is a smooth enough ride, as Gorrm keeps his eyes out the windows. The Honor Guard look about, rumbling lowly amongst themselves. Gorrm turns his head in all directions, taking it in. "So much like our own cities of old. Working in conjunction with what is natural. Interesting....."

The Deep Ones can hear, through the walls of the transport, the sounds of communications underwater. Their eyes take in the colors of the buildings and the glimpses of the local constabulary.

"We will ask to have a home built like this?"

"After. Duty first. Report to the Council when we are home."

"Good. Brown resin lacks vibrance. Should ask material used."

Gorrms silent translator picks this up and interprets in his ear-hole. His crest raises halway, and a slight nutmeg-like scent wafts outwards from him. At the question stated from Jeoorii, Gorrm clears his throat.

"*ahem* Yes. My guards here are inquiring as to the nature of the material used here. It seems they have taken a liking to it, and i'm sure i'll be getting requests to no end if their curiosity isn't sated. On a more personal level, I would like to know if I can get a briefing as to what to expect when I meet with Empror Taee. I don't like going into a situation completely blind."

“Erm...” There was a pause, apparently as Jeoorii operated her workstation. “Of course, Your Majesty. I’m having the data sent to the computer in your room. Er, we are glad your guards appreciate our architecture.”

The transport shifted out of the current and descended slightly. They had reached a hub and it soon shifted into a new, lower current that ran perpendicular to the first.

“I’m sorry we have to rush you so much, Your Majesty,” said Jeoorii. “The Council doesn’t want Emperor Taee to stay on Sanara for too long. There are no safety issues, of course, but we simply don’t have access to the same level of facilities here as they do on Trilar.

“We’re actually running about fifteen minutes ahead of schedule right now,” continued Jeoorii. “I can meet with you before or set up a meeting with the Lord Chancellor; whichever you’d prefer. You’re free, too, to use our databanks here in private or have a conference with your escort.”

Again, the transport pulled out of its current.

“Ah,” smiled Jeoorii. “Here you are, Your Majesty: Sanara’s one and only system seat. I’ll see you inside.” Her image vanished from the small video screen.

The transport ascended and smoothly spun one hundred and eighty degrees, so that its rear hatch was facing the bright blue building which had just moments before been in front of them. After a slow deceleration, there was a loud clunk and a slight jolt. Moments later, the double hatch opened to reveal a dark cylindrical passageway. Excepting the transport’s port, a door on the other end, and a carpeted walkway wide enough for two Sakkrans to walk abreast, the walls were entirely transparent. They looked out into a massive space, as (relatively) brightly decorated as the outside. Several Trilarians could be seen swimming around above, below, and to both sides.

“Welcome, Your Majesty,” said Jeoorii’s voice. “It seems as though I have been saying that quite often recently,” she added with what translated as a chuckle. “I’m just to your left.”

Floating on the other side of the transparent wall to Gorrm’s left was the same Trilarian he might recognize (depending on his eel-spotting skills) as the holograph and small image. Jeoorii spread her manipulators wide and bowed to the Sakkran emperor.

“If you need to speak to me, press one of those green buttons on the support struts,” added Jeoorii, indicating. The button was pulsating with faint light.

“I’m sorry it must seem so dark in here, Your Majesty,” Jeoorii continued, “but we keep many sensitive artifacts that may be damaged by brilliant light in the lobby.”

((sorry about the slow response time; I had a busy end to the week.))

Gorrm bows slightly himself, as well as his assistant. The Guard remain still, although their eyes could be seen swiveling about, independently of each other. The green light on the sipport strut is pressed with one of his claws. "It is good to put the voice to the face, Priatch Jeoorii. Being ahead of schedule is good. As much as I am enjoying my view of your city, I do have the business of keeping order in my Empire. Too long an absence, and some of the more unruly would see it as opportunity."

"I would appreciate a small brief on proper greetings towards your Emperor. Our Intel department of the Skeen Agency has very little information on your customs." The swimming Trilarians outside the dome are followed visually by the Honor Guard. The soft reddish eyes scan unwaveringly.

"My assistant would be able to record this for our DataFeed service. As an example, when one of us greets another, title preceeds name. Imperial Assistant Ssraal here, for instance. After the initial courtesy, we speak far more informally if it is one of our peers or close associates. If it is strictly a professional relationship, the titling remains."

Gesturing towards his assistant, she bows again and inflates her dewlap, showing a rich red color. "An honor to meet you, Priatch Jeoorii. I'm certain i'll be scouring your DataFeed for cultural information."

Gorrm gives the approximation of a grin, then turns his attention back to the exterior of the transparent wall. "I would be willing to meet with Emperor Taee at his liesure. I am here, after all, at his agreement."

“I understand, Your Majesty,” said Jeoorii gravely. “We will not keep you overlong.

“Our titles are not overly complicated and, it seems, much like yours,” she continued as her eye traced carefully over the Deep Ones. “All Trilarians have two names: a formal one and an informal one. They are usually styled with the formal preceding the informal.

“We use our titles in the same way that you do; the title precedes the formal name, in most cases. The informal name is only used in cases of familiarity, or for Priatches and the Emperor.

“Royalty addresses the Emperor as ‘Emperor Taee,’” she continued after a moment’s thought, “and non-royalty as ‘Your Majesty.’ I believe that about covers it.”

Jeoorii gestured with one manipulator towards the door opposite the transport’s hatch. “Through there, you will find our special conference room. There’s a good terminal in there if you want to access the databanks, Imperial Assistant Ssraal,” she added with a spread-manipulator gesture to Gorrm’s assistant. “We’ve even set it up for your language.

“I am going now to inform His Majesty that you have arrived. He should be joining you shortly.” With that, Jeoorii flipped her tail and jetted off into smattering of guards and politicians moving through the lobby.

The conference room was lit more brightly, to what the Trilarians assumed would make the Sakkrans more comfortable. Half the room, which was painted a deep hunter green, was dry and well-lit; the other half, separated by a transparent window, was equipped for a Trilarian. The designers had decided not to make chairs individual to a certain species and instead designed the non-aquatic half with long, wide benches. Touch-operated computer terminals flashing Sakkran characters stood at both ends of the room.

"By your leave, my liege, I would like to make use of the data terminals. I believe it would prove beneficial to the Diplomatic Corps to have this information." The voice was calm; almost monotone. But the fluttering of the nictitating membrane in her eyes spoke of eagerness.

Ah, to be so young and full of life again. "Very well. I give you leave. But keep your mobile on. I may need you again soon enough." A wave of his hand emphasised his statement. Ssraal bowed lowly and very nearly tripped over her own feet turning about to make use of the terminals.

His honor guard, however, remained in their positions. Four surrounding the room, and two at either side of him. "Lively female, yes?" He looked up at his left-most guard. The grinding sound of mouth-plates gnashing together was heard, as well as the clashing of their lobster-like claws, and the translation soon after.

"She would break like a branch before a storm with me." Odd chuckling came afterwards. They really have an odd humor. Thinking this, the Emperor made a concentrated effort to not laugh.

While Gorrm prepares to meet with Emperor Taee, the fleet commander of the Lost Fleet surveys the system from the edge of the Trilarian sensor range. He goes over the recordings snatched from the CommSat network in the system.

So the Emperor came, as I guessed. But he comes with an escort fleet. Not what I expected. The ships are definitely Sakkran in origin, but something seems different about them. He goes over the visual recordings over and over, not quite able to put his finger on why they seem odd to him. Finally, he decides to bring his tactical staff in.

The recording is played in a loop for them, and they look intently at the display. "Basic configuration seems standard. Level of armament can't be discerned from this recording."

"Markings and hull design seems a bit different. Too many unknowns without risking a closer look."

The Fleet Commander looks at the data, and listens to th eTacOfficers. "Hrrrmmph. What do you reccomend?"

"The wisest course would be to deploy a sensor drone. Let it take readings and recordings while we leave the area. The information it gets can either be relayed to us, or shown when we pick it up later. Remaining here, however, would not be the wisest move."

"Rrrmmmm....yes. I see the wisdom in your words. Very well. Deploy a drone, but rig it to record, not relay. I wouldn't want someone intercepting the relay and following us through it."

Suddenly, the lights in the conference room dimmed significantly. A door in the aquatic half opened and in swam Emperor Taee, flanked by General Laabrian and Minister Yerasael. It might have been easier for the Trilarians to wear eyeshades of some sort than to lower the light for Gorrm, but inconveniencing the guests was meant to send a direct message.

“Emperor Gorrm,” said Taee and he released gas from his swim bladder and settled down in front of the Sakkran. “It is a pleasure to meet you at last.”

Ssla System

One instant, there is nothing, just emptiness, a few molecules of hydrogen per cubic kilometer, and the light of stars near and far.

The next instant, there are thirty-six ships newly emerged from twelve-dimensional space, each one bloating from a point to full size as if it had coasted in from far, far away no matter what angle it is viewed from. To be accurate, each ship has slipped in from an inordinate distance away... just in all directions at once.

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/compyart/tmbpresident-general-11cloc.jpg (http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/compyart/president-general-11clock.jpg)
TYWS-SCV Sirius

Deep within the armored hull of the blocky vessel, a blatant affront to grace and anything over sheer utilitarianism, Sky Marshal Farentino paces to the front of the command room. The room, just as simple, blocky, and efficient as the exterior of the vessel, is no larger than necessary while avoiding being so small as to be detrimental; the fore end is dominated by a spherical holographic projection indicating the strategic situation around the ship, surrounded by multiple monitors showing various things of import to the semicircle of officer consoles arrayed around the board. Surrounding and behind the semicircle is a two-decked gantry of enlisted ratings and technicians acting as the translation between the mighty vessel and its officers.

Raphael looks at the strategic indicator board, noting the construction of the relatively unfamiliar system, not-quite-wiry arms folding as he takes it all in carefully. "Comm..." he says softly yet intelligibly, with his stage voice that lets one project quietly, "let Hayes know we're on station. Stand by for further directives... and, while we're here," he looks over his shoulder with a slight smile, "get the ISN on the line and see if we can't peek over their shoulders along with the Exploration Command and the Zero-One von Neumann probes. If they decide to hang out in any inhabited system within two hundred lightyears, we've a good chance of finding it..."

The intent of lowering the light in the room was not lost on Gorrm. That doesn't mean he was willing to take it in a positive sense. A low rumbling sound could be heard, if one's ears were keen enough. "Emperor Taee, it is good that you have agreed to meet." The soft red eyes of the Honor Guard seemed to stand out more in the darkness. For them, there was no noticable shift in the light levels as their eyes scanned over the entryway, and the Trilarians themselves.

"I want to convey the sorrow the citizenry of the Empire feels for your plight. The event here on Sanara Prime has thrown much in disarray in the Sslaa System." He reaches into his robes, and pulls forth a sealed box. It's held out in the direction of Emperor Taee. "In here is a datacache showing the results of our investigations so far. The information is incomplete, due to our lack of intel into certain areas. Perhaps your investigators can fill in the holes."

Sslaa System

Within the hollow moon of Vubz System Command, the I.S.N. branch receives the comm from the Sensor Stations. Staticy radio signals eminate from the CommArray on the surface of the moon. "We read you, Sirius. Patching you through to R.S.S. Wheeland." A few beats passes before the sound of the Ranger Sentient Ship answers.

" This is Wheeland. Your request has been routed to myself. As lead ship of Task Force Watcher, i'll keep a quantum entanglement line routed through Vubz, to your crafts. You'll see what we see."

During this comm, the interior of the Ranger ships fills with a breathable liquid oxy/nitrogen mix. It takes a moment for the crew to adjust, expelling all gaseuous contents of their lungs, and breathing in the liquid medium. After a few moments, the 18 ships get underway and leave the System Coordination Base.

The supercarrier... was less than creative when it came to determining an avatar for itself. Sirius leads to Dog Star leads to dog, all very logical and apropos in its mind.

http://www.abtc.org/judges/sable_c.jpg

Now if only the human crews--and the other ship-minds--would cease the endless "Technician Timmy has fallen down the well!" jokes and the whistling. Sweet S.H.O.D.A.N., the whistling. Didn't anyone know any other tune (http://www.melaman2.com/tvshows/mp3/Lassie.mp3)?

"Acknowledged, Wheeland," Sirius barks back enthusiastically nonetheless--if nothing else, the avatar is oddly appropriate for its personality. "I'll keep the Sky Marshal informed--thanks!"

The ship's perpetually cheerful voice pipes into the command room via the public-address system. "Sky Marshal Farentino, sir, we've got a direct observation link from RSS Wheeland, one of the Rangers' ship minds. I'm hacking it through to comm technicians right now."

"Good, Lassirius," Farentino replies, one corner of his mouth barely quirking up, "relay our gratitude."

Well, at least the nicknames could be worse...

Sshrrakaa slides on the PaSpace shunt helmet, thankful they no longer use the shunt pods save for the Merchant Navy ships. Those things are wierd. All those neuro-tendrils poking and prodding .... A visible shudder rolls down her spine at the thought. Her psychic avatar is sat in a small rocking chair, reminding her of her family's Black Swamp lands. So quite and foggy with the Peeper Frogs singing in the trees.

The simple orb shape of Wheeland's avatar appears. Light blue, with a yellowish glow around it. "Hello, Sub-Commander Sshrrakaa. You have something you wish to discuss?"

"Yes, Wheeland. Are all pre-flight checks complete?"

"They are. Are we waiting for the Menelmacari fleet, as I was briefed?"

A roll of the eyes answers the query. "No, Wheeland. You read the data concerning their response time? There are no elven lives at stake here, at least that we know of. However, have a sense-hack set for their comm sets, and in their language."

"Acting, Sub-Commander. Your Sirrah has sent a short message for you, relayed to me. The gist is that she wishes you good fortune, and stresses caution and adherence to the briefing."

"Confirm reception of the message; i'll look at the full text later on. Send a command to all RSS ships. Calibrate Harmony Drives for out-system frequencies as logged, and prepare for insertion. We leave immediately. Head for all pre-picked coordinates and begin discreet searches once arrived. Out-fleet comm silence is to be maintained once search begins unless targets are acquired."

Acting, Sub-Commander." A beat passes. "Orders sent and confirmed. Heading out-system now."

The 6 ships of Task Force Watcher fire up their drives, and unfurl then furl their solar-sails once to the TYCS ships in salute. The sails act not only as solar energy collectors, but proximity sensors as well. The swift salute also allows them to pick up ambient sensor data, and collect information on the harmonic frequency of the 'fabric' of space in their system.

The three task forces head out-system, where their Harmonic Principle Drives are calibrated and activated. Shortly after, they seem to just slip into an envelope of space with no visual effect or any other standard sci-fi movie fanfare. Only a strange series of radioactive pulses leaves any sign the ships were ever there.

Yerasael worked a control panel on his side of the room and a card reader - set up to meet Sakkran standards - opened next to Gorrm.

“Your kind words most appreciated, Emperor Gorrm,” said Taee. Untranslated, his voice sounded like the dull scrape of rock against rock. “And I hope that we are also united in our desire to see permanent and everlasting peace between the Sakkran and Trilarian Empires.

“There I admit something of a dual purpose to meeting with you. My subjects desire revenge and, try as I might to convince them that no honorable Sakkran could be behind this, they still clamor for your people’s blood, Emperor Gorrm.” Taee paused, perhaps to build up the drama for his next statement.

“I have nothing but my people’s best interest at heart. However, that often involves ignoring the outrage of the ill-informed masses. For that reason, I have decided to ask you, Emperor Gorrm, to enter into negotiations to completely formalize relations between our two states.”

Both of the Emperor’s advisors recoiled in shock. That had not been discussed during the prep session!

((sorry this took so long. Would you believe that I managed to completely miss Sakkra’s 10-31 response and thought I was waiting on him? *blush* ))

At the mention of the Trilarians clamoring for Sakkran blood, Gorrm just stood there, and breathed out a low sigh. "It is to be expected. That is why precautions have been taken to ensure my safety." A silent hand gestures towards the Honor Guard.

Mentioning formalizing relations, however, got a reaction as Gorrm's neck-crest raised up high. "Indeed! That is excellent news! But how to begin without inciting a full-scale revolution in your territories, Emperor Taee? If your subjects are hot for our blood, more than one voice will be quite appalled at this."

“Two voices just in this room, Emperor Gorrm,” replied Taee with a wave of his manipulators. “But our people must learn to live in a modern galaxy. This bloodthirst and xenophobia simply cannot be allowed to continue.”

In the background, Yerasael and Laabrian were becoming more and more agitated.

“Your Majesty - “ tried Genera Laabrian, but a wave of the Emperor’s manipulator shut him up.

“I trust that this initiative is not unwelcome to the Sakkran people, Emperor Gorrm?” asked Taee.

Gorrm's crest raises half-high, while his neck pulses sligthly. His tympanum waver as well; a sign of pleasure. "I can speak for my subjects when I say that this would be a welcome development. We have seen many, many strange things. There are also many who would like to see none but one species dominate the space-lanes. It is always good to know who is against you, and who is with you."

A beat passes, and the Emperor hangs his head a bit. "However, I would be lying when I say this would be a unilateral feeling. There are those in the Empire who hold long grudges, for no other sake than holding a grudge. They would hold a grudge against a houseplant if it gave them any satisfaction. However, there is a matter of grave import that requires both our attentions."

His hand gestures towards the disk. "In that datacache is the information of a group we belive may be responsible for supplying SPORE to the radical extremists that carried out their heinious action. Psych profiles, ship data, cago and crew manifests; the works. I hope this info will be useful. I offer this in hopes of better understandings between our Empires, that this may never have a reason for happening again." His head bows low, with his eyes closed.

The card’s information was being displayed on a screen altered for Trilarian eyes inside the aquatic half of the room. Taee swung an eye over to it and watched in silence for several seconds.

“I thank you for this information,” said Taee. “Allow me to offer my personal assurances that I would never have assumed that the Sakkran government would never condone such activities.”

He paused.

“These... rouge elements, however, are most troubling. Surely, we must work together to eliminate this threat - and educate our peoples about it.”

Gorrm nods his head slowly, and clasps his hands together in a steepling motion. "Sensor probes from one of our allies in the Triumvirate of Yut have been deployed far and wide. Information on the specifications of the ships possibly involved in this rouge element have been uploaded to them; if the rouge fleet is about, the probes will find them." He paces back and forth before the separating glass.

"Also, the Skeen Agency has gathered the information you see before you. This information has been passed to the Jheer Rangers, an elite force with the most rigorous training and best technology that the Triumvirate could muster. They are on the hunt for the rouge fleet as well. When the rouge fleet is found, the full weight of the combined forces of the Trium will be brought to bear. If this fleet has sponsorship, the sponsors will also be dealt with." Gorrm stops pacing at this point, and looks at the assembled Trilarians.

"I will leave it to your discretion if and how you would announce this to your subjects. It should be known that when this fleet is found ...." He balls his clawed hand into a fist at this point, and his voice sounds as a hiss. "...and they WILL be found, they will meet with treatment equal to that which they have seen fit to dispense."

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

Meanwhile...

The three Task Forces have been sent on their ways. TF Hunter heads out anti-spinward and rimward. Seeker heads spinward and coreward. Watcher has followed the path of the Emperor and his fleet, and begins their search outside the Sanara Prime system.

The voice of Wheeland addresses the Sub-commander in P-Space. "Sub-Commander Sshrrakaa, we are here. Should I begin sensor sweeps?"

"Do so, Wheeland. Link me to your sensors so I can see what you see."

A silent affirmation from the orb-like avatar, and the Sub-Commander feels a flood of information coursing through her eyes. She feels the solar winds tug at the unfurling sails, and sees the inky blackness of space become a field of trajectories, proximity sensors and light-spectrum readings.

The energy signatures of the Emperor's Kreeg IVb sub-light engines is faintly visible as a trail of ionized particles. Other carft's emission signatures are quite visible as well, but do not match the specs she's looking for. Microwave radar, lidar, P.S.L.I. sensors, radiation sensors all coursing information through the link between Ship and Handler.

"We'll do two full circuits at system's rim, past the heliopause. Inform the other Ships of this." Sshrrakaa clears her mind of internal thoughts, and begins sorting and searching the information as it comes.

“I expected no less of the Sakkran Empire,” replied Taee. “If an accord can be forged in the wake of this disaster and between our peoples, surely anything is possible.”

------

“That’s odd,” rumbled the sensor officer aboard Revenge to herself.

“Report,” called the captain, casting his eye over to the station.

“Sir, Eooliaan reports sensor ghosts beyond the Trilar starlane.”

The captain swam over and glanced over his sensor chief’s shoulder. “Indeed? Do we confirm?”

“Yes, sir. Nothing I can lock down, but there is some sort of power source out there.”

“Hmmph. Admiral! Come take a look at this!”

Truly, Admiral Maanor Uuliqa had been listening to everything in the exchange, but he was trying to keep a lordly distance from the everyday running of his flagship. With a graceful flip of his fin, he jetted over to the sensor station and gazed intently at the screen.

“Well, there’s not much else for it, then,” he said.

“Sir?” asked the captain.

“We have to investigate that. With the Emperor here, there’s simply too much at stake. Captain, have the ship come about and head to investigate these readings. I’ll order the fleet to do so as well.”

“Of course, sir,” replied the captain. “Helm, prepare to put us over - execute on the Admiral’s command!”

Like a school of fish, the backbone of Trilar’s defenses in the Sanara system came about and accelerated - in almost the complete opposite direction as the rogue fleet hanging outside of their sensor range.

The sensor probe of Fleet Rabid had remained just outside of Trilarian sensor range. Its job was to record and store data, where the information would be picked up later. However, if something important was to happen, it would send a very short burst of encrypted data that was basically jibberish back to the fleet ships.

Viewing the Trilarian defense vessels making haste to the opposite end of the system was as important as anything else, by the reasoning of the probe's programming. The burst was sent in a swift pulse, and then silence.

Moments later, a lone scout vessel dropped out of sub-space, and retrieved the probe. Technicians removed the data storage module, and jacked it into their console.

The captain of the scout-ship looks at the data, and the visual recordings taken by the probe. "What we have here, gentle-beings, is a window of opportunity. Their defenses have a hole in them now. Contact the fleet."

The encrypted laser-pulse comm is sent, and the comm officer turns in her chair, a quizzical look on her face. "What of the Imperial Fleet? Won't they intercept us?"

"Not in time, they won't. They're hanging at the system's edge by order of the Trilarians. The Defense Ships, though formidable in their own right, are not terribly swift. When the fleet gets here, a prudent course will be to stage a lightning strafing run. I'll make that suggestion to the Fleet Commander."

Several minutes pass, when a contingent of the Fleet Rabid, 15 ships in all, emerges from sub-space. The fleet commander comes on in the scout captain's console in a tiny holographic image.

"Report, Captain."

"Sir, the Trilarians have a hole in their defenses, A quick hit-and-fade is our best bet right now. We need this situation to escalate if our plans are to bear fruit. A couple of orbital shots of gelignite should do it. We are running low on SPORE, and don't have the facilities to produce more right now."

"I accept your recommendation. I'm sending a pair of cruisers with one orbital round each to do a quick strafe. Do not stay around the system long. Just observe them, record and report when we rendezvous. Lhaar out." The image cuts off, and on the senor screens a pair of blue dots breaks formation from the fleet, and begins its run at top speed.

The lower bay doors open, and each disgorge a 50 meter round of gelignite from its bays. Enough to set ablaze a 2.5 kilometer radius. Burning at 4000 farenheit, there would be certain to be significant damage done. The ships drop their rounds, and race outsystem to return to subspace.

EDIT: Dang. Sorry, wrong thread.

Alarms sounded throughout the Sanara system as Fleet Rabid’s vessels appeared on scanners.

“We’ve identified them as an older Sakkran design. They’re coming in fast and anything but friendly,” reported a sensor tech on one of Sanara Prime’s traffic satellites.

“Is there anything that’ll be able to intercept?” asked the station’s commander, worry evident in her voice.

“No, commander. They’ll be in firing range and back out again before anything can stop them. Taskforce Revenge is making tracks to intercept, but they were too far off. Damn the landwalkers!” The tech pounded his keyboard in frustration.

------

“What in the deeps?!” wondered Taee as a piercing siren sounded throughout the system seat. Before anyone could answer, however, a large armored plate slammed down, shutting him off from Gorrm’s chamber. Guards seized Taee roughly and pulled him into a fortified section of the building.

On the other side, the reception room became inhospitable very quickly. Armored doors slammed shut on all sides and the lights shut off completely, leaving Gorrm and his party in total darkness. Ssraal was similarly locked into the room with the data terminal, which shut off completely.

And then the building - and the entire aquadome - shook with the impact of the two fifty meter gelignite rounds.

The Escort Fleet, continuing to hang at the system's edge, gets the blips from the raider vessels briefly. "What is it? I want ident tags on those crafts!" The captain of the flagship Tiamat jacks into his P-space linkup with the ship, while comm officers and sensor station techs race about.

A brief moment of nausea envelopes the Captain, before the avatar of his P-space form manifests. "Tiamat, what have you got for me on those ships?"

" Captain, I have the ident signatures of those ships. They match two crafts from the Lost Fleet in my memory-cache. Should I packet them for future analysis?" The voice of the sentient ship sounds quizzical, and a bit concerned as the orblike avatar of Tiamat spins slowly.

"Do so, and get me in touch with the Trilarians."

" Captain, the two ships have fired orbital rounds on the location our Emperor is at for his summit."

"WHAT! Get me the Trilarian command! Now! And send a comm back to Sslaa! Have them send a hunter squadron out here!" The captain of the ship is in a frenzy at this point. His avatar blurs and seems to lose cohesion a bit.

" Captain, we are receiving a message. It is from the Ranger ship Wheeland, and Sub-Commander Sshraaka. Shall I put them through?

"What? Yes yes. Put them through."

Immediately the avatar of the Sub-Commander, a small salamander, and the avatar of Wheeland, also an orb but yellow, appear.

The salamander seems to speak without opening its mouth. "This is Sub-Commander Sshraaka of Task Force Watcher. We have witnessed the situation and are moving to follow the vessels. We recommend you hold position."

"What? Our sensors have shown no other ships in the locale. Where are you? And what are your plans?"

"We are 1,000 kilometers away from your position at the system's edge. Why you can not se eus, will not be discussed. We will follow the ships, report their location to Vubz, and if ordered, engage the enemy. Speak nothing of this to any outside this discussion. Utmost security is needed in this."

The avatar of the Captain sighs deeply. "Very well. You have our silence on this. But be swift! This could become catastrophic."

The salamander spins in the air. "Acknowledged. Sshraaka, out." Her avatar fades out of existence. In the meantime, Wheeland and Tiamat had been having a discussion of their own, and after Wheeland's avatar fades out, the captain turns to Tiamat.

"And what did you two discuss?"

" Wheeland and I have been data-swapping. Quite a fascinating individual, she is. I certainly hope to meet with her at the Belt sometime. "

"Belay that. Get me in touch with Trilarian command. I want to know what's happening there."
*********************************************************
Meanwhile, the Ranger ships lower their stealth measures. The six ships join up, and engage their sub-light drives at the system's edge towards the last location of the raider ships. Once there, they unfurl their sensor-sails, and get readings from the area.

"What do we have, Wheeland?" the Sub-Commander is still in her P-Space avatar. The yellwoish orb spins and hums a bit. "Picking up sub-space drive signatures. Level of emission from the fabric suggests they did not make a long insertion. They are older model drives as well. My senses should be able to trail them with relative ease."

"Do so, then. Ping me when we get close. I am apprising Vubz HQ as to our situation, and requesting alert level three." The salamander sends out the comm, while WHeeland apprises the other vessels in the task force as to the plans. A short time later, the six crafts enter sub-space and begin the chase.

"Belay that. Get me in touch with Trilarian command. I want to know what's happening there."

The second attack on Sanara Prime was only thwarted by the accumulated knowledge and experience from the first one. Although grievous damage was done to the outer structure of the aquadome, even rupturing it in several places, damage control teams were able to control the depressurization and keep the dome from spewing water - and Trilarians - onto the planet’s arid surface.

The system seat was the safest building in the aquadome. Soon after the weapons hitm it was completely out of danger. The motors which circulated air in Gorrm's chamber had gone off line for a moment right after the bombardment, but they came back on as the building's reserve power sources came online. The lights remained off and the doors remained closed, however.

The elaborate defense system also managed to keep its command structure intact. Even as Group Watcher vanished into subspace, the Tiamat found itself targeted by every weapons system in Sanara and the missile batteries on the planet itself. Most had been unable to acquire the two cruisers but had been passively locked onto Tiamat since she arrived in orbit. Even Revenge and her taskforce painted the Sakkran vessel as they charged in from the outer system.

“Sakkran vessels - you are hereby ordered to stand down all weapons, propulsion, and defensive systems and surrender immediately. Repeat...” The message was played over and over to every ship in the fleet, especially Tiamat. The Trilarians were accepting no communication from the Sakkran fleet.

TYWS-SCV Sirius
Ssla Orbit

"Sir, I'm getting chatter over the Sakkran EI battlenet they patched me into. The good news is that they've acquired an element of RABID. The bad news is that said element managed to bomb the surface of the Trilarian planet and now the Sakkrans are being ordered to stand down. An element of Rangers are in pursuit."

Sky Marshal Farentino sighs, sitting down in his utilitarian chair and swinging down the console containing executive summaries from throughout the Sixth Space Superiority. "Element size?"

"Appears to be two older cruisers. I'm not getting a definite designation."

"Request additional data, and keep Hayes informed. The attack was definite; the withdrawal is probably a feint. Stay at Event Condition One for the moment; FleetCom, ensure that all ships are standing by to go to EC Zero and jump at a moment's notice. Tie in the machine cores to decrease response time."

The fleet command officer nods. "Acting, sir."

TYWS-BB Scolomorph
Earth Orbit

Sky Marshal Hayes rubs her temples momentarily, then fits her green officer's wheel-cap back on her graying auburn hair. "Acknowledged, 'Morph. What's the political situation?"

The penguin-avatar looks at the Sky Marshal blankly. "Political situation? You mean, past the fact that they have the flagship of the Sakkran Empire at gunpoint, are demanding surrender, and not willing to listen? I don't know about you, ma'am, but I'm not sure Emperor Gorrm is willing to lose that much face."

Hayes nods. "Comms, get me an untasked RCS and tell it to get to the Sanara System, guns cool but on standby. We need the Trilarians to understand that there's rogue elements afoot and we're doing something about it."

"Are you sure that's wise, ma'am?" Flag General Liebermann, the executive officer, frowns from his own console. "The situation's pretty hairy--do we really want to be throwing in more warships?"

"If they come in outside of engagement range, guns cool, it shouldn't be too bad. It's only a eight-ship squadron, after all."

TYWS-MCR Hornet
Bright Morning Orbit

"Priority orders, ma'am." The communications officer rips a bit of onionskin from the secure teletype and hands it over to Flag Captain Hitome Sato. The short Japanese woman nods and accepts it, looking over the lines of type with sharp scans of her eyes. "FleetCom, Alert Con Zero, full defensive posture, offense on standby." The lights go greenish-yellow as she walks back over to her station and sits down. "Immediate jump to coordinates hacked to last fleet transmission. One minute to jump, mission clock synchronize--mark."

Going from not even general quarters to near full-yellow alert and immediate jump protocol in under a minute is unusual, to say the least. The ships of Roving Cruiser Squadron Bravo explode in a flurry of activity, crew immediately dropping what they are doing and running to quarters and saferooms, settling themselves into battle-stations, clearing the corridors and getting everything stowed for jump. Troopers run down corridors to their stations, pushing off with one foot

Sanara Prime

and landing on the next without even knowing that they've just crossed quite a few light-years with the last step. The eight ships of RCS Bravo--two spear-like Tiger-class medium cruisers, two bulbous Grendel-class point-defense frigates, and four predatory-looking Puma II-class destroyers--simply slip in from infinitely far in the blink of an eye, electromagnetic wash spreading out in a sphere from them. They come in well within Trilarian sensor range but well outside of engagement range, about sixty degrees off of Tiamat's position to create an equilateral triangle with Tiamat, Sanara Prime, and Hornet at its points.

Sato looks up at the camera on the bridge that points at her. "This is Flag Captain Hitome Sato, commanding officer of the Triumvirate of Yut Roving Cruiser Squadron Bravo, on a pea--"

"Priority transmission from Scolomorph, ma'am," a technician calls out off-camera, "Hayes is wanting to hack over our sys to say something."

Hitome smiles at the camera, single gold stars twinkling on her collar. "...and now, a message from our sponsor."

* - * - *

This is Sky Marshal Hayes, Triumvirate of Yut. We are currently pursuing the rogue elements which just struck your system; this cruiser squadron has been allocated to aid in your defense. The regular Sakkran space navy, including Tiamat, had no complicity in these events and so we request you disengage and free up your targeters for the real threat. We apologize for not reacting sooner. If there's anything we can do to help--including emergency aid--please let us know.

Sky Marshal Lisa Hayes
CO, Task Force DIPTYCH
TYWS-BB Scolomorph

“Sakkran vessels - you are hereby ordered to stand down all weapons, propulsion, and defensive systems and surrender immediately. Repeat...” The message was played over and over to every ship in the fleet, especially Tiamat. The Trilarians were accepting no communication from the Sakkran fleet.

"......I repeat. We wish contact with Emperor Gorrm to ensure his safety before we acquiesce." The captain of the Tiamat continued repeating his message. Looking over to the comms officer, who just shook her head in a negative fashion, the captain sat on the edge of his chair. "So they won't let us talk. Open a comm channel to Vubz."

"Channel open, sir."

"This is Flagship Tiamat. The planet Sanara Prime has been assaulted by rogue elements. The Emperor and his guard are assumed taken captive. Alert priority 8. We are currently targetted by system defenses. Assuming threat probability 5. Requesting reinforcements." The Captain signals with his hand, and the comm is sent.

"Message confirmation achieved. Awaiting response." A few beats pass, and the voice of Directir Seerak comes through clearly.

"Flagship Tiamat, your request is processed and cleared. I.N.S. elements are crewing and preparing to meet at your trajectory. Per Imperial Edict for this situation, you are ordered NOT to stand down. We will not have imperial technology falling into possible hostile hands. By order of the Emperor himself. If necessary, engage in defensive measures, but do not fire first. I repeat ....."

"Confirmed. Tiamat out." The captain nods his head. "Hrrrrr....you heard the Edicts. Battle stations!"

Immediately the lighting on the ships dims to a dull yellow, as a low thrumming sound reverbrates throughout the ship. Gunnery crews and fire-control stations are manned in a short time. P-Space neuro-shunt helmets are fitted and online at all stations, The entire ship coordinates as if one singular entity.

The avatars of the captain, and all crew come on, and the ship avatars of the escort fleet are visible in a circular fashion around the Tiamat. Ship trajectories, area data and firing protocols are seen in this space. The captain gives his orders to the fleet. "Bring up EFR IV shielding and EmDCM counter-measures. Throw those targetting systems off. Confirm SPORE missile batteries are charged and bring spinal-mount cannons on. Carrier groups, get all fighters and gunboats manned and ready. Have all point defense batteries coordinated and ready to fire."

"SPORE missile batteries confirmed charged and ready. Targets are acquired."

"Good. If they fire first, eliminate all hostile vessels to a singularity."

"Tiamat, this is Cuthbert. We have confirmed sightings of TYWS elements in vicinity. 8 ships total. They're sending a transmission. Shall I relay to all ships?" The pink orb-avatar of the Cuthbert spins questioningly.

"Do so."

This is Flag Captain Hitome Sato, commanding officer of the Triumvirate of Yut Roving Cruiser Squadron Bravo, on a pea--

...and now, a message from our sponsor.

This is Sky Marshal Hayes, Triumvirate of Yut. We are currently pursuing the rogue elements which just struck your system; this cruiser squadron has been allocated to aid in your defense. The regular Sakkran space navy, including Tiamat, had no complicity in these events and so we request you disengage and free up your targeters for the real threat. We apologize for not reacting sooner. If there's anything we can do to help--including emergency aid--please let us know.

"Captain, do you think the Trilarians will listen?"

"They have our Emperor captive, Tiamat. We will keep our alert level up."
**********************************************************

Within the chamber Gorrm occupies, his honor guard immediately takes their positions around the EMperor, backs to him facing out in all directions. The sound of sniffing can be heard in the darkness by Gorrm, and the low light from their reddish eyes is the only thing visible. The grinding and clicking of mouth-plates is quite audible, however.

"What is going on? I want to communicate with my ships! This is outrageous!"

“More landwalkers?” asked an incredulous Admiral Maanor, his dorsal membrane inflating in shock. “Is Sanara the popular tourist system of the year?”

“They’re sending a message.”

“To us?” asked Maanor.

“No, sir. Directed, it would seem, to all ships.”

“Send to all commands: flag will handle negotiations,” said Maanor. “Do we have a translation of that primate gibberish yet?”

“Working,” replied the comm officer. “Our contact with Sunset on Sslaa IV has proven a valuable resource for human languages. Here - patching through the audio now.”

This is Flag Captain Hitome Sato, commanding officer of the Triumvirate of Yut Roving Cruiser Squadron Bravo, on a pea--

...and now, a message from our sponsor.

This is Sky Marshal Hayes, Triumvirate of Yut. We are currently pursuing the rogue elements which just struck your system; this cruiser squadron has been allocated to aid in your defense. The regular Sakkran space navy, including Tiamat, had no complicity in these events and so we request you disengage and free up your targeters for the real threat. We apologize for not reacting sooner. If there's anything we can do to help--including emergency aid--please let us know.

Sky Marshal Lisa Hayes
CO, Task Force DIPTYCH
TYWS-BB Scolomorph

“Our response, Admiral?” asked the first lieutenant of the Revenge. Maanor sat in quiet contemplation.

“We will be brief and simple, to avoid miscommunication. Lieutenant Rolanii, prepare to take message:

“‘Sky Marshal Hayes:

“‘This is Admiral Maanor of the Imperial Trilarian Star Navy. We appreciate your offer. You will forgive us if we can trust no one at this time. Please remain in the outer system until the facts of the matter have been ascertained. We will not fire on the Sakkran vessel if they do not resist.’ Send that straight away, won’t you?”

“Admiral, Tiamat continues to refuse orders to stand down,” called the sensors officer. Maanor swore deeply, almost to the point of blaspheming the Old One.

“Drat those stubborn landwalkers, those abominations unto the universe,” he said through gritted teeth. “Send to Tiamat: if she does not heave-to at once, we will be forced to fire into her.”

“We have an incoming message from the surface,” called out Lieutenant Rolanii suddenly. “It...it would appear that Emperor Taee is among the dead in the attack.” Silence fell over the Revenge’s flag bridge.

“Repeat our message to the Sakkrans,” said Maanor, “and have defense station...um...” He checked a holographic realtime map of the immediate vicinity. “...twelve put a warning shot across Tiamat’s bow. Make it five hundred kilometers wide, no active signals from the missile.”

He paused as the orders were relayed.

“Shoot.”

A single missile leapt from the racks on one small orbital missile launcher. It accelerated at gees that no Trilarian, dampening systems be damned, could withstand across the void and cut five hundred kilometers across the Tiamats bow before flying off to the great infinity.

Within the chamber Gorrm occupies, his honor guard immediately takes their positions around the EMperor, backs to him facing out in all directions. The sound of sniffing can be heard in the darkness by Gorrm, and the low light from their reddish eyes is the only thing visible. The grinding and clicking of mouth-plates is quite audible, however.

"What is going on? I want to communicate with my ships! This is outrageous!"

"Emperor Gorrm," said an unfamiliar voice over the intercom, "I have been authorized to inform you that their has been an attack on the aquadome. Your transport was damaged in the attack and communications are currently down. We are currently assessing the damage and starting repairs. This is the safest place for you right now. Please stay put.”

Meanwhile, however, no lights came on and the heavy doors connecting the various air-filled chambers remained closed.

"Missile launch, ma'am," a sensors technician says cooly as a red dot appears in the spherical strategic indicator board, blinking as it moves towards a highlighted blue icon. "Vector indicates it to be a clean miss of Tiamat--warning shot."

Flag Captain Sato sighed and quietly assumed there was a man somewhere ordering the shooting. "Sky Marshal, are you getting this?"

Quite a long ways away--

"Mmmhm." The late-middle-age woman looks none too pleased as she idly rubs her temples with thumb and forefinger, palm shading her brow under the visor of her officer's cap. "Classic pissing match, Flag Captain. Can you handle it? I may have to play strategic commander soon enough."

Hitome nods. "I could play the voice of reason, ma'am, but I can't pull rank on the Sakkrans if need be."

"Fair enough. If I could borrow your comms again..."

* - * - *

"I think it would be best for everyone if we all took a step back and thought about this for a moment. Right now we have a standoff situation--Sanara Prime has been bombed again, and they're rightfully livid about it. However, the regular Sakkran forces had nothing to do with it, because their own Emperor is down there, and because he's down there, they're rightfully not going to surrender.

"Now, there are two ways this can go. The first way is for each side to see what the other's thinking and realize it's in no one's best interest to shoot at anyone. If the Sakkrans charge in to get their Emperor, Gorrm's probably going to get killed and that doesn't achieve their objective. If the Trilarians continue to demand the Sakkran's surrender and start firing real shots trying to enforce that, then this situation will once again devolve into a firefight with many, many casualties. Probably a firefight that neither side particularly wants, for its own reasons--the Sakkran emperor previously mentioned, and the fact that the Trilarian spacy probably can't tolerate the ludicrous losses that would come from such a conflict.

"We are currently in hot pursuit of the traitors involved and, once we find them, we will capture as many as we can so they can be brought to justice. Now, anyone shooting anyone or demanding anyone's surrender at this point doesn't really help here for reasons previously described. I'm not saying trust each other--that could understandably be quite difficult--and there's nothing wrong with warily keeping an eye on each other. Thing is, right now, you're pointing guns at those who are not only not responsible for the situation, but could be helping with the pursuit and capture of these rogues.

"We request slight concessions from both sides. From the Trilarians, we request that the surrender demand be dropped and that communications be opened with Emperor Gorrm so we can work with you in maintaining his safety as well as your own. From the Sakkran fleet, we request moving back to just outside of engagement range, so as to not intentionally or unintentionally press the Trilarians into action which they may believe is necessary for their own defense. This does not change the situation much, but it will work a great deal towards relieving the tension.

"I'm in charge of finding these criminals, and they will be found. We simply have to recognize the real threat here and work towards neutralizing it together."

Sky Marshal Hayes
CO, Task Force DIPTYCH
TYWS-BB Scolomorph

" Captain, we have an incoming missile. there is a message incoming demanding us to stand down. Mapping trajectory of missile...." Calculations within Tiamat occur faster than normal thought would allow. The captain sat in his chair, eyes glaring at the data before him in P-Space. "Are point-defense systems prepared?"

"Yes, Captain. Data indicates the missile will miss by 500 k. Unguided. A warning shot?" The inquisitive tone of Tiamat's avatar rings clear.

"Yes. All ships, report in." The sing-song tones of replying ship's avatars rings in as they report.

"Good. Ready all fighter squadrons. Brief them on their defensive positioning. Expect more of those missiles for a first strike, but guided this time. Tiamat, prepare yoor Brilliant Pebbles missile drones for use against those orbital platforms."

"What of the message, Captain? Do we respond? As the question was posed, orders were relayed and launch platforms were targeted by the self-guided anti-warship drone missiles.

"Charge up your spinal-mounted plasma cannons and heavy Hard Beam banks. Fortify your shielding and ECMs. That will be our response." The captain gets a cold, calculating look in his eyes. "Target their lead capitol ship with your main cannons." Projections sprout up around all the command staff in P-Space, giving targetting data, firing protocols and system defense info.

Comms are fired off between ships as they coordinate maneuvers, cruisers taking up defensive positions around the capitol ships. Aboard the carriers, fighter squadrons are given their assignments and target priorities while in their cockpits. Bomber squadrons are given their target run coordinates. Launch Officers give the all-clear. Wyvern-class Warships charge up their heavy neutron cannons and paint targets. Defensive missile batteries are loaded, and anti-warship missile batteries prepare to fire. All await the signal from the Tiamat.

“Sir, we’re receiving another communiqué from Sky Marshal Hayes,” advised Lieutenant Rolanii.

“Directed to all ships again?”

”Yessir. And the Sakkrans, sir.”

“Very well. Remind the commands that flag will handle negotiations and notify me when you have the message translated.” Maanor returned to staring at his tactical map. “Ops, evaluate current Sakkran maneuvering,” he called.

“I’d say that they’re trying to close and engage with direct fire weapons, sir,” replied the operations officer. “At current rate of closure, we will entire their envelope in fifteen seconds.” His calm voice belied a growing sense of panic.

“Order all ships seventy degrees to larboard!” exclaimed Maanor. “Emergency power!” Dammit - how could I have let us get this close in?

Revenge’s groans echoed through her water-filled corridors as the engines struggled to kill her forward momentum and take up the new course. The light screen of point defense light cruisers tried to interpose themselves between the two battlecruisers and the Sakkran fleet.

“Task force Old One reports powered missile range achieved for the main Sakkran fleet, sir,” reported Lieutenant Rolanii. “I’m almost finished with the Sky Marshal’s message.”

An alarm klaxon sounded - Revenge was being painted by Sakkran targeting sensors.

“Fleet has entered their direct fire envelope,” reported Ops. For a second, Maanor said nothing. “Sir, I recommend we fire now, while we still have all our missile launchers!” exclaimed the operations officer, turning in his seat. Still, Maanor said nothing. “Sir!”

“I have finished translating Sky Marshal Hayes’ message,” reported Lieutenant Rolanii. “It’s quite lengthy, sir - shall I put it on audio?”

“There’s no time for that,” insisted the commander. “Sir - the missiles - we must fire now!”

((aand a cliff hanger for now. ;)))

One of the Tiamat's comm officers signals the Captain. "Sir, we have a transmission from Vubz. Two full warfleets have just entered subspace, and are enroute. ETA is three cycle's time. And there is a transmission from Sky Marshal Hayes of the TYWS. Shall I patch it through?"

The Captain levels one eye at the comm officer, and taps his ear, signaling private reception. The comm officer nods, and puts it through.


"I think it would be best for everyone if we all took a step back and thought about this for a moment. Right now we have a standoff situation--Sanara Prime has been bombed again, and they're rightfully livid about it. However, the regular Sakkran forces had nothing to do with it, because their own Emperor is down there, and because he's down there, they're rightfully not going to surrender.

"Now, there are two ways this can go. The first way is for each side to see what the other's thinking and realize it's in no one's best interest to shoot at anyone. If the Sakkrans charge in to get their Emperor, Gorrm's probably going to get killed and that doesn't achieve their objective. If the Trilarians continue to demand the Sakkran's surrender and start firing real shots trying to enforce that, then this situation will once again devolve into a firefight with many, many casualties. Probably a firefight that neither side particularly wants, for its own reasons--the Sakkran emperor previously mentioned, and the fact that the Trilarian spacy probably can't tolerate the ludicrous losses that would come from such a conflict.

"We are currently in hot pursuit of the traitors involved and, once we find them, we will capture as many as we can so they can be brought to justice. Now, anyone shooting anyone or demanding anyone's surrender at this point doesn't really help here for reasons previously described. I'm not saying trust each other--that could understandably be quite difficult--and there's nothing wrong with warily keeping an eye on each other. Thing is, right now, you're pointing guns at those who are not only not responsible for the situation, but could be helping with the pursuit and capture of these rogues.

"We request slight concessions from both sides. From the Trilarians, we request that the surrender demand be dropped and that communications be opened with Emperor Gorrm so we can work with you in maintaining his safety as well as your own. From the Sakkran fleet, we request moving back to just outside of engagement range, so as to not intentionally or unintentionally press the Trilarians into action which they may believe is necessary for their own defense. This does not change the situation much, but it will work a great deal towards relieving the tension.

"I'm in charge of finding these criminals, and they will be found. We simply have to recognize the real threat here and work towards neutralizing it together."

Sky Marshal Hayes
CO, Task Force DIPTYCH
TYWS-BB Scolomorph

As always, the voice of reason. The captain levels his eyes again at the comm officer. "Send a reply. Secure encryption."

*************************
This is Captain Ghoov of the Flagship Tiamat, and acting fleet commander. We appreciate your logic, and find little fault with it. However, this is not a logical situation. The Trilarian 'think-tank' would immediately realize we would not bombard a planet with our Emperor on it. But many Trilarians harbor old hatreds of land-dwelling beings. We have tried to put this behind us, and this is what that has gotten us.

If they fire on us, we will remove their offensive capabilities. With force, as seems needed. They may hold our Emperor hostage, but Imperial Edict decrees that, in these situations, the Emperor's life is to be treated as forfeit to prevent Imperial secrets and information from falling into hostile hands. And consequently, Triumvirate information.

We will not fall back, but we will not advance either. Targets acquired will remain acquired. We will remain at this state so long as no hostility is engaged on the part of the Trilarians. Two full war-fleets are enroute to relieve crews and reinforce our positions.

We will see what the Trilarians do, and act accordingly.

Captain Ghoov
Flagship Tiamat
Sakkra I.S.N.
**********************************

MEANWHILE

"Holding at range, Sub-Commander." The voice of the sensors technician carries through the mock-bridge in P-Space aboard the Wheeland. They've been following the pair of cruisers through sub-space, sniffing along on their drive signature at extreme sensor range.

"Any signs we've been spotted?"

"None so far. The stealth measures seem to be doing their job."

Good. Thank the Pantheon for chemical triggered hull-plating. The Sub-Commander sighs as her avatar uses its miniscule fingers to key up datascreens before it. "Wheeland, plot me a trajectory based on the amount of time those crafts can remain in sub-space on their current heading."

"Affirmative...stand by. The avatar of Wheeland pulses and glows a bit brighter as it calculates, using organic data-nodes in conjunction with the minds of it's crew, much like a quantum CPU. "Sub-Commander, projections show the crafts will come out of sub-space 200 LY from Sslaa, Anti-Spinward."

"Hrmmmm....log it, and alter our trajectory to emerge 150,000 k from their point of re-entry."

"Progress," Flag Captain Sato announces simply.

Across the bounds of space on an entirely different ship, Hayes nods. "Exactly. Tightbeam that to the Trilarian leaders, aerospace and political if you can find them. I know they haven't acknowledged receipt of the last yet, but this is important. The sooner they get it, the sooner they parse it."

"Acting, ma'am."

* - * - *

[[ATTACHED FEED -- TRANSMISSION TIAMAT -> HORNET]]

See, we're making progress.

Sky Marshal Hayes
Yadda yadda yadda

The buzzing of the alarm continued for nearly fifteen seconds.

“Shut off that noise!” snapped Maanor at last. “Lieutenant, let’s hear that message.”

“Admiral!” shouted the operations officer. “May I remind you of your duty to --”

“One more outburst and I will have you confined to quarters!” roared Maanor in reply, his gills flapping. “The Sakkrans have not fired yet; I must conclude that they do not intend to! Lieutenant, the message.”

“There's a new relay from the Scolopendran fleet,” reported Lieutenant Rolanii. “Shall I translate that as well?”

“Doubtlessly a reinforcement of their first message," said Maanor. "Let's hear that first.”

“Aye aye, sir - playing now.”

Maanor listened to the entire recording in deep concentration.

“That sounds eminently reasonable,” said Maanor, “and thus is eminently untrustworthy.”

“Sir?” asked Rolanii.

“If it were any race other than humans, I might be more inclined to listen,” said Maanor, “but they are inherently greedy and untrustworthy. Humans will say or do anything to further their own interests; they care not about the sufferings of others.

“However, they would seem to have us. We cannot fight the Sakkrans - not now. And so we are forced into their hands. Clever, very clever. Lieutenant Rolanii, prepare to send a message to the Scolopendran ships.”

“Not the Sakkrans, sir?”

“No! Certainly not - I will not initiate direct contact with them! Make to Sky Marshal Hayes: ‘If the Sakkrans will accede to your conditions, so will we. The recent attack on Sanara has made communications with the Bandavent Aquadome sporadic at best and there has been no word from Emperor Gorrm.

“‘We will not stand down before the Sakkrans. Once they have powered down weapons and moved to the fringes of the system we will cease targeting them and move to aide in digging their Emperor from the wreckage.’ Send that off at once, but don’t let the Sakkrans intercept it.”

“And the second message, sir?”

“Let's wait for a third,” grinned Maanor

Men...

Hayes smirks wryly to herself. She doesn't know anything about Trilarian physiology beyond that which she's crammed in the past few hours, which is extremely basic--a bit less important than things like culture and sensitivities. It wasn't her fault she was born into a species they tended not to trust thanks to a history of bad experiences, but at least the butting-heads pigheadedness of the male must-dominate-to-breed meme is an oddly comfortable constant.

Situation: Standoff. The Sakkrans won't shoot while the Trilarians don't, but won't fall back. The Trilarians will generally not be helpful unless the Sakkrans fall back, but there's no advantage in shooting. She chuckles wryly. The one advantage of a standoff is that no one is shooting the other, at least. Now--how to argue from a position of strength without appearing overbearing?

Communications to Tiamat
[[ATTACHED FEED -- TRANSMISSION REVENGE -> HORNET]

As you can see, tricky situation. I think you're both dedicated to not firing as long as there's no need to, though, so that at least buys us some time to catch those ships that made the strike. How can we expedite that?

--Sky Marshal Hayes

Communications, Open

Well, it looks like we've all agreed to not shoot as long as the other guy doesn't first. As long as we all stay true to our word, that appears to be as stable as we're going to get. I know a lot of you aren't inclined to trust me, so trust in the fact that if anyone does step out of line, the current standoff will most certainly devolve into a nasty furball quite quickly. Right now, we've got nearly a hundred capital ships on the hunt for about thirty rogues; we can provide specifications at your request.

All I ask is for a little bit of patience and assistance while we sort this thing out--have you had any unusual system-fringe activity, or strange sensor signals not related to your own movements--that sort of information would be extremely useful in designing a pattern and history. I get the sneaking suspicion we're all being played here, used for some reason.

Sky Marshal Hayes
CO, Task Force DIPTYCH
TYWS-BB Scolomorph

Some time passes as the Wheeland and the Cuthbert had paired up to tail the corvette pair. The other four ships also paired up to form three groups, widening the search range. The pair we care about at this moment, however, are nearing the trajectory plotted. "Sub-Commander, we will enter real-space in 1 minute." Wheeland's avatar rotates slowly on its Z axis.

"I copy, Wheeland. Have our targets entered real-space yet?"

"They have, Sub-Commander. Sensors show a small debris field in the area. Exact make-up is undeterminable, but heavy ferrous content is noted.

Could be a nickel-rich asteroid field. Could be a mine-field. Better play it cautious. The tiny fingers of the salamander-avatar tap at the control display before it. "You get the same read, Cuthbert?"

The pinkish-red avatar pulses slightly. "I do, Sub-Commander. My handlers are working to determine the nature of the debris. We have ruled out a Brilliant Pebbles screen or SatDef systems, but our coordinates will take us into the edge of the field. We should be safe.

"Acknowledged, Cuthbert. But stay alert. We don't know what it is, and we can't be certain the targets don't know we're tailing them." the salamander looks at the data before it.

"Wheeland, prepare your defensive screens for when we hit real-space."

"I copy, Sub-Commander. Re-entering real-space ..... now."

The two ships slide back into reality without any fanfare or effects. They just seem to come into existance, sliding slowly out of a hole. The view before them causes many a gasp aboard both ships, and from the ships themselves.

Years ago, the original full-sentience ships, called the Pakayg, left the Sslaa system to explore the galaxy. They were outfitted with the best in cybernetic technologies that could be grafted into their organic systems. They left, with the first generation of ships birthed from the four Pakayg ships holding a small ceremony for them. They were never heard from again.

Until now, as the floating carcasses of the four ships drifted aimlessly in space. Smaller parts of their bodies spinning slowly for all eternity. Cybernetic enhancements surrounding the ships, seemingly stripped for useful parts and resources. Massive organs, neuro-clusters and offal oozing out of massive scorch-holes pocked all over their bodies.

"Oh....by the Pantheon!" Wheeland's avatar span swiftly and erratically. "Vengeance! Vengeance and suffering on those who did this!" The ship cruised slowly towards the Pakayg, unfurling her sails as she did so, until she came alongside one.

"Gamma. This one was Gamma. My grand-sirrah. She taught my sirrah of reason and culture. A true diplomat. And now..... The avatar stopped speaking, and just hung there. Wheeland's sails brushed against the hull of Gamma, and then the sails furled again.

"I got readings from her hull. Even in death, she spins a story. Hard Beam residues. That was what ruptured her skin."

The Sub-Commander stares at the floating corpses, remembering stories her sirrah told her about the first sentient ships. Shaar was not even a Fleet Commander then, when the project begun to make the first fully sentient ships. These weren't normal ship sentiences. They were fully organic from bow to stern, and capable of operating without crew if needed.

The pair is silent, drifting alongside the dead ships for a small time, when Cuthbert comms in. "Sub-Commander, the target re-entered sub-space as we entered real-Space. This seems to be a jump-point for them. I have calculated their trajectory, and recommend pursuit before we lose their trail."

Sshrrakaa snaps out of her silence, and shakes her head. "Copy, Cuthbert. Fire a comm to Vubz on the Ranger secure frequency, protien-strain code. Tell them what we saw."

A moment of quiet. "Done, Sub-Commander."

"Good. Mark this point in your nav-logs. These beings will get the proper burial they deserve when we are done with this mission."

The pair synchronizes their Harmonic Drives. and re-enters sub-space, once again on the trail.

Well, it looks like we've all agreed to not shoot as long as the other guy doesn't first. As long as we all stay true to our word, that appears to be as stable as we're going to get. I know a lot of you aren't inclined to trust me, so trust in the fact that if anyone does step out of line, the current standoff will most certainly devolve into a nasty furball quite quickly. Right now, we've got nearly a hundred capital ships on the hunt for about thirty rogues; we can provide specifications at your request.

All I ask is for a little bit of patience and assistance while we sort this thing out--have you had any unusual system-fringe activity, or strange sensor signals not related to your own movements--that sort of information would be extremely useful in designing a pattern and history. I get the sneaking suspicion we're all being played here, used for some reason.

Sky Marshal Hayes
CO, Task Force DIPTYCH
TYWS-BB Scolomorph

“Here’s the latest from Sky Marshal Hayes, sir,” reported Rolanii, putting the message on audio.

Maanor listened with a grunt. “I’m assuming they sent this to the Sakkrans as well?”

“Yes, sir.”

Admiral Maanor picked up a datapad and started manipulating its buttons. After several quiet minutes, he had composed a brief message. “Translate and send this at once, won’t you?” he asked.

--------

Sky Marshal Hayes,

Even assuming that you are correct about the Sakkran vessels which attacked Sanara being rogue, you will understand why we are hesitant to trust them again. The first time we did, our planet was bombarded for the second time and our emperor was killed.

If the Sakkrans will agree to withdraw to the edges of the system, we will fall back on Sanara and cooperate to the fullest of our abilities. Until such time, I’m afraid I simply cannot believe that our sensor logs will not be used to some nefarious purpose.

Admiral Maanor
HTMS Revenge

OOC: Taking slight liberties here....


The message from the Revenge is routed and sent to the Tiamat, which the Captain takes on his private comm. "Ridiculous. The Trilarians have some gall, making such demands without even contacting us themselves. Comms!"

The avatar of the comms officer at her station signals in. "Yes, Captain."

"Have a message prepped, and send it to the TYWS ships, and the Sky Marshal."

"Ready, Captain."

"Hrrrmmmm...we will not move from where we are until the Trilarians disengage their target locks on our crafts, and power down all weaponry. Obviously they are without Herpatra, or they would contact us themselves to make their demands. If we were to come about to withdraw to the system's edge, they would probably try to shoot us in the back. We will not move. And if they wish to make further demands of this nature to us, they can very well do it themselves. This manner of communication routing is insulting to all here." The Captain motions with his hand across his neck.

"Comm sent, Captain."

The Captain sits back in his virtual chair. "I'm growing weary of these antics. They are stalling for time."
**********************************************************

Meanwhile, in the locked-down room, the EMperor sits in the dark with his guard.

"I should take a mate, yes? It would be good to have a second voice in the governing of the Empire. The burden grows heavy on my neck."

Grinding of mouth-plates is heard in the darkened chamber, as the low reddish glow from the eyes of the Deep Ones let's him see where they are. Translators kick in.

"You have done quite well so far. If you feel the need to take a mate, there have been suitors before."

"Yes, but they lack the stamina and judgement for the task. I will not settle just to reassure the people."

"Wise enough. But the work that comes with the Imperial Mantle can make one forget that a successor would be good for the Empire."

"Hrrrmmm....yes. Perhaps, if we survive this encounter, I can delegate less important tasks to others. Then an Imperial Holiday will be taken so I can focus better. I'll remind Bosska if I get back to Sslaa, to arrange a Dance, and see what manner of courters approach."

((mmm, liberties. I think I’ll take a few myself! :)))

“Does that lizard take us for fools?” wondered Maanor aloud at the receipt of the latest Sakkran messages. “With our weapons powered down, the Sakkrans could blast us from the stars without a single shot being fired in revenge! Lieutenant, prepare to take a message for Sky Marshal Hayes --”

“Begging your pardon, Admiral,” said Rolanii, “but surely it would take less time if we directed the message to the Sakkrans themselves?”

“Until that cold-blooded monstrosity sees fit to address himself to me, I will not condescend to speak to him,” replied Maanor with an air of finality. “Take a message:

“‘Sky Marshal,

“‘You may inform the Sakkran commander that we will not power down our weapons while he awaits an opportunity to blow us out of space. This is our system and two surprise attacks have been made upon us already. There will not be a third. On this issue there can be no compromise.

“‘The Sakkran commander speaks of Herpatra; this is an odd concept, surely, for a race that has twice bombarded an undefended planet and killed tens - hundreds of thousands of innocents. If the saurians want communications, I suggest they initiate them. Of the two of us, we are the only ones who have not yet murdered hatchlings; it is not our Herpatra which needs defending. Revenge out.’”

“Admiral, this is hardly diplomatic,” Rolanii felt moved to point out.

“One does not need diplomacy when one is right,” said Maanor coldly. “I can see it; surely even the Sky Marshal can. You will send the message, now, and not question my orders further.”

“I -- aye aye, sir.”

-------

“Of what do they speak, Minister?” asked a young assistant of Yerasael. They had been watching Gorrm and his bodyguards with a hidden camera.

“Typical Sakkran nonsense,” the Minister of Foreign Affairs assured his helper. “Have communications been repaired yet?”

“Um...” The assistant checked his computer terminal. “Yes. Limited contact with the orbital stations ought to be possible.”

“Good. Patch me in. I want to know everything that’s happening.”

“Um, Minister? Shouldn’t General Laabrian...?” the aide started to ask.

“Haven’t you heard, Umuuq?” asked Yerasael in shock. “The Lord Chancellor was severely injured in the attack. He’s in surgery right now - the medics doubt he will survive.” The minister sighed. “I knew it was a bad idea, bringing this much of the Privy Council this far from Trilar. But His Majesty, may his soul walk with the Old One, insisted.”

“Tactical information is coming through now, Minister.”

Several minutes later...

The lights came back on suddenly in Gorrm’s chamber. They were still dim compared to those of other civilizations, but it must have been quite a shock from pitch black.

“Emperor Gorrm,” came Minister Yerasael’s voice. Depending on the Sakkran translator’s level of complexity, he would sound very agitated. “Communications have just been restored - there is something of grave importance to discuss.”

The delay from routing the comms most literally has the captain of the Tiamat grinding his teeth. When the comm is received, his eyes widen and the scent of cinnamon grows thick in the air around him. His agitation is felt by the crewmembers around him, smelling the combat scent and growing anxious.

"Their brains are as soft as their skin! Are they blind? Are they mad? I am sick of this bandying about. COMMS!"

The comm officer's avatar turns slowly. "Y..yes, sir?"

"Patch me directly through to the thrice-damned Trilarians. A/V communication. DO IT!" A swipe of his clawed hand in the air before him finalizes his statement. The comm officer sets up the feed. "Ready to transmit, sir."

"Attention Trilarian Stellar Command. We have received your communication and offer these statements of fact."

His fingers come before his face, ticking off his points. "Firstly, none of our ships came anywhere close to bombardment range of Sanara Prime. Secondly, our Emperor is down there. Why would we endanger him? Even a fool could see that makes no sense. Thirdly, even though our ships did not intitiate hostilities, you saw fit to fire a warning shot and order us to surrender. THAT, in our books, is an act of hostility."

"You will disengage your target locks. Then you will let us make sure our Emperor is in good health. Only then will we withdraw to the system's edge." He approaches close to the transmitting unit, and a deep rumbling could be heard as his crest raises to its full height. "Do not make us show our teeth. Tiamat, out." The transmission cuts off at this.

**********************************************************

In the isolated chamber on Sanara Prime, Gorrm looks upwards as the dim lighting comes on. The nictitating membrane of his eyelids slides over his eyes to help adjust to the change in lighting. He listens as the voice informs him of the status of things.

Hmmm....sounds like something very serious. He stands and straightens his mantle. "Very well, i'm listening. What is it that needs discussing? And where is your Emperor?"

“The legendary Sakkran patience strikes again,” mused Maanor as the Tiamat’s captain faded from the viewscreen. Trilarians were loath to do anything, especially conduct delicate negotiations, in a hurry. The weight of history and tradition weighed too heavily on their shoulders.

“Sir?” asked Rolanii, hardly able to believe that he was joking around at such a time despite her socialization. “Er, what will our response be?”

“The only one we can make,” replied Maanor. “‘Disarm your weapons and I’ll disarm mine.’”

------

“Dead.” Yerasael wasted no time with melodramatics. “Killed in the bombardment. However, there’s something even more important - it would appear that your forces and mine - ours - are engaged in a standoff in orbit. I need your help to diffuse the situation.”

The comm officer turns to the captain, relief showing on her dewlap. "Sir, we have a response." The captain smacks a closed fist into an open palm repeatedly.

"Very well, let's hear it." He listens in on his ear-piece, and his crest lowers downward a bit. "Finally, some sensible reasoning. Very well." His avatar speaks loudly into nothingness. "Tactical, power down the weaponry, and wipe the targetting systems of all current targets. Helm, hold your position. Let's see if their word has any value." The alarm lights cut off, and the lighting returns to normal.

************************************************************

There is silence in the room occupied by the Emperor for a moment. "Dead.....this is terrible." He shakes his head, and looks skyward as if he could see his ships directly. "I'll do what I can to defuse the situation. What would you ask of me?"

“Admiral, sensors show the Sakkran weapons powering down,” reported an officer on the flag bridge.

“About time those damned lizards showed a bit of sense,” muttered Maanor. “Very well; we’ll keep to our word.”

“All ships report their weapons successfully powered down, sir. All missile ports are closed; all targeting sensors are turned off,” said Lieutenant Rolanii, relief evident in her voice. “Shall I send a message to the Sakkrans?”

“We’ve kept our word,” said Maanor. “Now let’s see if they keep theirs and fall back to the edge of the system.”

------

“I ask you to do anything you can, Emperor,” replied Yerasael. “A fight between our great nations cannot benefit anyone. That comm system over there is set up to contact your fleet. We designed it with Sakkrans in mind, so the controls ought to be fairly easy to use. Beware, however, that the system is unreliable right now and may fail again.”

Emperor Gorrm tugs on his mantle of office, and makes himself appear as regal as possible. The comm system is activated, and Gorrm begins his address.

"Tiamat, this is Emperor Gorrm. I am safe and unharmed. I am invoking the Edict of Hospitality and ordering hostilities to cease. Follow the direction of Sanara Prime Command, and avoid making us lose face during this incident. I will continue on my task down here." The comm is shut off while he awaits a reply.

***********************************************************

"Captain, sensors show the Trilarians have powered down their weaponry and disengaged target locks. We also have an incoming transmission from the planet surface. Voice ident indicates it's the Emperor. Shall I put it through?"

The captain hangs suspended in virtual space, his avatar's finger resting on his chin. "If the voice ident confirms, then by all means." He listens to the static-laden comm, and sends his acknowledgement.

"I hate this. By all rights we should be strong-arming them into bowing to our demands. But the Edict of Hospitality has been invoked. Very well." He nods to his comm officer, who puts out a message to all ships. "We are to withdraw to the system's edge, and await word from the Emperor. He indicates he is unharmed, and will continue his task on the surface."

Slowly and with no rush indicated, the ships come about and slowly retreat to the system's edge.

A screen next to Yerasael flickered to life and scrolled some information. The Minister glanced over it, then turned his good right eye back to Gorrm.

“Our system defenses confirm that your orders have been obeyed, Emperor Gorrm,” he said, in a tone that translated as ‘relief’. “Our own ships are withdrawing to Sanara orbit. There is also a third party reported. Admiral Maanor claims that it is, um, ‘Triumvirate of Yut Roving Cruiser Squadron Bravo’. A human ((correct?)) identifying herself as ‘Sky Marshal Hayes’ has been speaking for them and trying to negotiate an end to the standoff. Friends of yours, I presume?”

(OOC: Flag Captain Hitome Sato (Morita%20Ota%20Atsuko%20R.JPG) is very much human, Japanese descent. Sky Marshal Lisa Hayes (http://www.ci.houston.tx.us/pnl/bravopages/hayes.jpg) is also very much human, of mixed Western European/North American Colonial descent.)

OOC: What he said.

IC: Gorrm laughs in a short burst, sounding like a loud snappiy HARF! "You could better say that, while we are indeed allies and close associates in the national sense, they act more as a tempering measure. It would explain why this station, and myself included, have not been reduced to our base components." He looks over to his guard, who remain in their positions around him.

"Now, then. Where do we go from here? I have yet to receive confirmation of the status of your Emperor, my ships have withdrawn; it seems we are at an impasse."

((no, I’m not dead. Just doing a darn good imitation of it. :)

...and those of you who filed for my life insurance, I now have your names!))

Yerasael took the news of Sakkra’s relationship to the Triumvirate impassively. His voice was grave, however, when he announced Taee’s fate.

“The Emperor was taken by his guards out of that door there,” he said indicating a portal with his manipulator. “I would open it to let you see, but that passage is little more than a pile of rubble now. A lucky hit from the bombarding ships caused a structural failure in the stories above it, causing a chain reaction that resulted in a cave in.” Yerasael bowed in a way that could be translated as a sad smile.

“Ironically, this room is one of the best protected in the entire colony; had the emperor simply remained here, nothing would have happened to him.

“However! What’s done is done. We are currently trying to make contact with Trilar to inform the new Priatch of the Evenvent of his succession. We cannot form a new government or appoint a new Lord Chancellor until after the coronation; until then, Emperor Gorrm, it would seem we are able to do little enough.”

((a more rambling post stuffed full of tangental goodness is coming after I return from my afternoon classes!))

The Ranger ships following the bandit's cruiser make several insertions into sub-space, and then re-enters real-space in a zig-zagging series of jumps. Hot on their trail is the Wheeland and the other Ranger ships. Wheeland chimes in as her avatar spins wildly. " Sub-Commaner, I think we have something. I'm reading numerous sub-space insertion points nearby. Almost like a jump-nexus point."

Sshrrakaa looks at the sensor techs, who turn and nod in acknowledgment. "It is confirmed. Multiple residual traces of sub-space drive signatures, older generations of ours. The sub-spatial tearing has left the fabric here slightly unstable."

The Sub-Commander nods her head. Activate emission filters and power-sig dampers. Refresh the melanophore stimulants to keep our cloak active and take us into R-space 500,000 k from that entry point. All ships, go to condition yellow. Let's see what we have here."

Aye ayes sound from all stations, and the crafts enter real-space again right at the rim of an asteroid field. "Any sign we've been detected?"

Sensor techs let their P-space fingers fly at their virtual controls, and holographic displays pop up everywhere. "All indications point to negative, sirrah."

"Good. Let's remain here for a time and confirm this place before we commit to anything. I want two Horde Troopers equipped with some sensor-probes and sent into that field to set up a listening post."

Several minutes later, a pair of power-armor clad troopers leave through an airlock, carrying a 3 meter circumfrence probe with clawed feet. They enter the asteroid field, maneuvering slowly to avoid colloision, and also to not alert whatever may be in the area as to their presence. They shut off their jet-packs and hop from asteroid to asteroid until they reach their marked locations. The silent probes are turned on, and their feet grab onto the surface of an asteroid. The troopers then reverse their course, hopping on the asteroids until they reach the Wheeland.

On the Wheeland, Sshrrakaa looks piercingly at her sensor display, until the activated probes send their confirmation pings via electro-chem communication. "Aaaah, goood. Now let's sit tight, and see what the probes see."

The ship they had been pursuing had entered the asteroid field, and maneuvered slowly, almost painfully slowly, towards the center of that section of the belt. Automated defense screens cued the ship for codes, which were returned. The probes picked up the power-sources of the defense drones, and relayed the info back to the Rangers.

"This location looks promising. Why a defense screen unless something is there of some note?" A probe-technician drifts over to Sshrakaa's seat, and brings her attention towards some info on her holo-screen. "Sirrah, if you'll note here, these power sigs match those found on older generation BP Missile Drones. The code cueing matches the rudimentary AI that would be equipped on them."

Her eyes widen slightly, and then shrink back down into tiny slits while her pupils dilate. "Indeed....hmmmm...... Get the Grass-Walker comm officers ready to transmit back to the fleet, and prep the Q-link comm system. The second we know for certain, we send out the comm."

Gorrm paces about in the protected room. "So there is indeed little we can do. I would ask to return to my ship, and my people." He strokes his chin thoughtfully, and speaks with a somber tone. "

Should there be some manner of services for Emperor Taee, I would ask if it would be untoward for me to attend. Although we had a very short relationship, he struck me as one of sound mind and firm resolution. It is a rare thing in these times." Gorrm bows his head slightly.

OOC: Just so Trilar can have something to work with here. And it wasn't me who filed for your insurance policy! It was the one-armed man! Honest!

Evenvent, Trilar

“No, no, Your Highness! You must be tender with the Oaach - it does not respond to such abuse!”

Uoniuus Jaan cast aside the musical instrument angrily. The small air-filled chamber in the center burst and flooded, which caused his tutor to groan even more loudly.

“Your Highness, that was the seventh Oaach you’ve ruined this week!”

“I can’t wait to become a Juul,” replied the youthful Laanatch of the Evenvent with a scowl. “Music! Poetry! Languages! I’m tired of it all, and I’m tired of you, Laabera.”

“I cannot wait for you to become a Juul, either!” replied Laabera, inflating his dorsal membrane in anger. “These things are the pillars of Trilarian culture and society.”

“They are the pillars of a society long cast into the trench,” snorted Jaan. “The rest of the galaxy advances by leaps and bounds while we stagnate and decay. Why...”

Just then, the commlink to the small acoustic chamber rang dully. Jaan waited patiently while Laabera slipped into the enclosed booth at the back of the room and exchanged a few words with the caller. He emerged looking rather rattled.

“I - that is - the Emperor is dead. Long live the Empress.” Laabera spread his manipulators and bowed.

Jaan stared on in shock. Another two months and she would have been a Juul, albeit the most important one, for the rest of her life! - and now? Priatch of the Evenvent and Empress of the Trilarians! It was all too much to process at once.

------

“Of course, Emperor Gorrm,” said Yerasael with that strange Trilarian bow of deference. “There certainly shall be a service for Emperor Taee, but that will have to come at the discretion of the new Empress. I will be sure to inform Her Majesty of your words, which are most appreciated.”

An aide came up behind Yerasael and whispered a few words.

“Oh - I am told that the transport has been checked over and cleared for departure. Are all members of Your Majesty’s party ready for departure?”

Gorrm looks about at his guards, and at his aide with her dtatapad clutched in her clawed hands, looking rather sheepish. "We are prepared. Be assured I will do all I can to find those who caused this catastrophe." A hand signal is given to his aide in silence, which she catches from the periphral vision of her eye. The meaning being We will have words when we are gone.

They gather at the doorway of the chamber. "We are ready by your leave."

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

"Their comm encryptions are altered, but they still conform to Imperial standards. There is little doubt left." For a span of time, the Watcher task force had hung at the edges of the asteroid field in parts unknown to them. Comm signals had been intercepted and decrypted. The meat of the messages had involved coordination of ships further out.

Sub-Commander Sshrrakaa and Wheeland held discussion amongst themselves in P-space. " So we wait. What do we wait for?

Sshrrakaa's avatar sighed. "I'm not too certain. Something that will clue us in to if this is just an outpost or the actual base of Fleet Rabid. We've been monitoring comms and ship traffic, but nothing of real import has been found yet. How are your emission dampeners holding up?"

The golden orb spins and thrumms. "Holding up within expected parameters. The rest of the Task Force reports the same. Incoming comms from Hunter and Seeker report nothing of note yet found. Looks like we have the only real lead here. Feel like a game of chess while ....... hold on. Just snatched up an incoming comm. Should take a few moments for decryption."

"Let me know what you find out. In the meantime, cue up some music for me. I must meditate some."

“Yerasael!” demanded Taee again, swatting his powerful tail against the door to sadly little avail. “Laabrian! Anyone!”

It had been - how long? - several hours since his bodyguard had hustled him and Jeoorii Priatch Bandavent into this armored room. There had followed a loud crash from outside, the sound of weapons fire, and then silence. Water being the conductor of sound that it is, that was particularly frightening.

“Your Majesty, I do not think they will be answering anytime soon,” said Jeoorii with a despondent sigh. She was quite brave - or foolhardy? - to speak to a reigning Emperor in that tone of voice, but even his illustrious company was starting to wear on her nerves. “Do you not hear the sound that door is making when you thrash against it?”

Taee didn’t quite have the heart to rebuke her.

“There is no water on the other side, Your Majesty. It has been completely depressurized and drained. We are trapped in here until someone manages to restore the environment to norms.”

Taee twitched his tail and darted back and forth across the room in a rare display of agitation.

“I can imagine no fate more ignoble!” he rumbled. “Trapped in here like a Lamaandor in an air bowl, while my people suffer and die!” He blasphemed the Old One. “I’ll bet that this is all that son of land’s fault - imagine me, trusting a traitor to the depths like Gorrm! I shouldn’t be surprised if lizards were swarming all over the colony - that crafty landwalker probably even sent a fleet to Trilar, knowing we’d all be concentrated here! Why...”

“What is that?” asked Jeoorii sharply, cutting her monarch off in mid-rant. A red light was blinking on a control panel across the room, near the food stores. She darted across the room and checked it.

“Well?” demanded Taee impatiently.

“There’s a crack forming in the room,” said Jeoorii with terror in her voice. “Within fifteen minutes, we’ll start losing pressure and water.”

-------

The transport takes Gorrm back to the surface quickly. There, Trilarians in pressurized surface suits - which are more like miniature tracked vehicles with four dexterous manipulators and various other devices than an ‘exoskeleton’ - work fervently to patch damage to the Bandavent.

A few Trilarian bodies (or rather what is left of them after explosive decompression or being blown through a microfracture) litter the ground near the damaged portion of the colony. Gorrm’s spaceship, fortunately, seems to be on the undamaged half of the colony - as do the administration buildings.

((TWO posts on ONE day?!? My God, Jim, you can’t be serious!))

Gorrm looks about at the environment suits as they make their repairs. His aide and his honor guard make their way to the ship in the meantime. Hmmmm....the administration buildings are still standing.....something smells wrong about this. He turns and makes his way to his ship, but the feeling that something is amiss is very strong in him.

Boarding the ship, he turns to the aide. "They say the Emperor, Taee, is dead. But the buildings we have been in are still standing. I'd hazard a guess that they either meant to fool us, or they don't know themselves he still lives, or something altogether different is occuring here. I smell a dangerous wind coming.... remind me to get in touch with Director Thress when we get home."

With that he lays back in his chair as the craft prepares for launch. The aide looks at him side-long with one eye, while she puts his request into her datapad scheduler. A coup? Could we have been caught in a coup? Is that what he means? She closes her eyes and relaxes back. What interesting times I have found myself in.

Not since the dark days of the War of the Depths, when any individual Emperor was more likely to be killed by palace guards or a separatist attack, had there been a less joyous imperial coronation on Trilar. No matter what Empress Jaan and her government might say, popular sentiment still blamed the Sakkrans for all the death and misery on Sanara Prime. Some were content to curse the Landwalkers, confident in the knowledge that they would never enjoy the blessings of the Old One; others demanded an immediate war against Sakkra, the Triumvirate and anyone else who might stand in their way.

Not even Jaan herself was happy. The imperial trappings had been rescued from the depressurized chamber on Sanara where Taee, the Priatch Bandavent and their guards had met a grisly end. There was nothing physically wrong with the things, of course, but they emitted a sense of death. Jaan could imagine the scene which must have awaited eyes in that room - but she preferred not to do so.

Minister Yerasael, with General Laabrian dead and Minister Leoluus in prison, Emperor Taee’s senior surviving aide, returned to Trilar and the Evenvent with all haste to assume his duties as Jaan’s Lord Chancellor. Yerasael presided over an almost uniform restructuring of the Imperial Cabinet; Jaan, who was still too shocked by her ascension to power to react, approved of his activities.

Although Yerasael (supported by every Trilarian on Sslaa IV and a minority throughout the rest of the Empire) proposed a general rapprochement the Sakkrans, he also started building up a larger space fleet. Orbital facilities laid down the keels for dozens of new ships, ranging from missile battlecruisers to escort and reconnaissance vessels, for the first time in ages. Antaran units were poured into military research and development at a rate never before conceived and, due to the reclusiveness of Trilarian ambassadors, foreign powers were left to guess whether the sudden build up was defensive or offensive in nature.

--------

Daanada manipulated the controls on his exoskeletal environment suit and walked clumsily across the room, which was open to the dry atmosphere of Sanara. It was so tragic, Taee’s bodyguards hustling him here during the attack. Had they stayed on the other end of town, near the government complex, Taee would still be alive: instead, the Emperor was dead. It was strangely clean: everything that could be sucked through one microfracture or another was gone, leaving only the objects either bolted down or made, like the imperial trappings, of exceptionally strong composites - and most of those had been retrieved and returned to Trilar for the Empress’ coronation.

“What’s through that door?” asked Daanada’s partner over the communicator, his suit indicating the sealed passage at the end of the room.

“The bomb shelter to which they were taking the Emperor,” replied Daanada.

“No one’s checked that yet?” The partner sounded incredulous.

“The door’s jammed and there is another group of microfractures in its wall,” said Daanada. “We didn’t have time.”

“Well, there’s time now.” Daanada’s partner stomped his suit over and swiveled its camera up and down. “Here - we ought to be able to blow it open with your charges.”

The pair set to work and soon, with a great puff of dust and debris, managed to wrench the door open. The sight within - which Daanada had insisted would be nothing special - shocked them both. Reinforced tables had been set up against the wall, evidently with the intention of blocking any microfractures. However, the single Trilarian body - or rather what remained of one after the skin and flesh had been torn from the bones and the head, tail, and other extremities ripped from the remainder - bore witness to the failure of that effort.

“Poor devil,” commented Daanada after he recovered slightly. “He must have known what was coming and done everything possible to save himself. It just wasn’t enough.”

“Poor devil,” agreed Daanada’s partner.

Just then, Daanada noticed something in the back corner of the room. A mobile exoskeleton, much like his own, was strapped to the wall with powerful bindings. The decompression had shorn off the antennae used for communication, but Daanada’s external microphone picked up the low grinding of the suit’s mechanics trying to free itself from its constraints. A patch of green skin was visible within the cockpit visor.

“Praise the Old One!” murmured Daanada, “Someone is alive in that thing!” With loud, echoing footsteps, he crossed the room - but halted midway in shock. “Praise the Old One!” he repeated. “Praise - it’s the Emperor!”

The trip home was uneventful for the Emperor. Periods of sitting watching the latest holo-vids, with periods of eating, sleeping and discussing policy both with his aide and his flight crew to get a round perspective on things in the Empire.

On the return to the Sslaa system, he stopped over at the Vubz Coordination base to hold audience with Director Seerak. The situation at Sanara Prime is discussed, as well as his projections for the future.

"I'm telling you, Seerak. They have no love for us. Anything that happens, we will get the pin for it. That is why I want production on the cybernetic enhancements for the ships sped up. Increase weapon production, and get all inactive ships here for their briefing. All active ships will be formed into battle-fleets, and will patrol our holdings."

Seerak shakes his head disbelievingly. 'It doesn't make sense. How can they be so thick? The evidence is as plain as day..." Gorrm's raised hand stops him dead in his speech.

"They've been .... 'out of the loop' as the humans say. They only know their ancient history; much of which is lost to us. Old hatreds die hard and tenacious deaths. We'll have to show them that what was then, is not now. But I have a feeling there will be conflict, and we must be ready for it. DO all in your power to make this so. Now, I must meet with my hatchmate Thress."

Formal rituals of departure are observed, and Gorrm takes his leave to Sslaa V, while Seerak begins his tasks of ensuring the I.S.N. is ready for any eventuality.

Yerasael knew that the Trilarian Navy could not face the Sakkrans in open battle: not now, and probably not for a long time. Only a long build up, of technology and equipment both, could see the two powers face one another on an equal battleground.

He knew also that eventually the Trilarians would have to face the Sakkrans: it was a matter that could be delayed, but never avoided. That was why the fleet needed to be renovated at once. Trilarians cannot smile, but if they could, Yerasael would have been beaming to himself. It was such a perfect scheme: the reactionary Taee was out of the way, the people were now indignant enough that they would put themselves through hardships for the good of the state, and manufacturing a casus belli when one was required would be simplicity itself!

The only problem was in diplomacy. The appearance of the Triumvirate as a staunch ally of the Sakkrans was disturbing: they had access to great quantities of war material at a quantity and level of sophistication about which Trilar could only dream. Yerasael had hoped that he would be able to spin the Sakkrans as enough of a terrorist civilization that the Triumvirate could at least be pried from their fingers long enough and at the critical juncture. Now, that did not seem so possible. He would have to consider other options.

------

Light-years away...

“...You’ll never believe this!” Daanada was saying as he and his partner muscled the third exoskeleton into the aquaport.

“This had better be good, Daa,” warned Joolhas, his supervisor, as the hatches started to cycle and the pressure in the port began rising.

“Oh, it is - you’ll never believe it!” Daanada was in the mood to repeat himself. “Look!” he commanded, grabbing a portable camera and shining it in Taee’s faceport. The light caused the emperor to turn his head and flap his mouth once or twice.

“Put that camera down, you fool!” shrieked Joolhas. Daanada dropped it in shock.

“What!? What’s wrong?”

“I - I can’t explain! I’ll try to contain the damage - you don’t do anything stupid until the cycle is finished!” Joolhas quickly cut his a-v connection, leaving Daanada and his partner to wait in confused silence until the pressures finally synched up and the exit hatch opened. Joolhas was waiting for them on the other side.

“What’s going on? Don’t you know...” demanded Daanada, but he was quickly silenced.

“No time! Quickly come with me!”

“He needs medical attention!” insisted Daanada’s partner as they swam down the twisting corridors of the damaged section of Bandavent with the emperor’s exoskeleton in tow. “Where -”

“Here,” said Joolhas, shoving them into a transport, gathering in the emperor, and sealing its door. He punched a few coordinates into the computer and the transport whirled off into the eerie twilight of the city.

”This is Emperor Taee,” said Daanada self-importantly. “We have to alert Evenvent - we have to get him to a doctor.”

“Don’t you understand!?” asked Joolhas with a half sob. “Yerasael’s men - they see, they know!”

“Minister Yerasael?” asked Daanada, his face a perfect mask of befuddlement. “Why would he - “

“There’s no time for foolish questions!” snapped Joolhas. “For now, all that’s important is that we get off planet as quickly as possible.”

“We’re heading for the spaceport,” realized Daanada’s partner.

“And I’d advise you have anyone you love meet you there as soon as possible,” said Joolhas, “and there’s not a moment to lose. They’ll kill us all - they know.”

“Who knows what?” asked Daanada in some irritation.

“Yerasael - he planned the whole thing - well, not all of it - now he’s the Lord Chancellor - once he realizes Taee is alive, he’ll kill anyone who knows - that’s us - he’ll kill us and our mates.” The thoughts came gushing out of Joolhas’ mind faster than he could articulate them.

“But -” said Daanada. “Where could we go?”

“The only place Yerasael’s arm isn’t long enough to reach yet,” said Daanada seriously. “The colony on Sslaa IV.”

Not an hour later, Joolhas had rented a small interstellar ship with all their combined savings. They were just in time: the freighter, its seven passangers huddled together, activated its drives and slipped into the starlane to Sslaa just hours before one of Yerasael’s toughs discovered the damning tape footage and forwarded it to Evenvent.

((sorry the end was so rushed - sleep beckons. :) More to come tomorrow, I am sure!))

Days pass as the Wheeland decyphers the heavily-encrypted comm it intercepted. The code was three-dimensional, so while for a human it would have taken weeks to decypher, Wheeland does it in a much shorter span. Ship traffic coming to and fro from the observed station allowed them to get a feeling for a fairly loose schedule of patrols. All this was noted, while Rangers in their armor patroilled the area, circumventing the station and its defenses and mapping out the area.

"The decryption is complete, Sshrrakaa. I have it on display for your perusal." On the gelatinous screen before her, the text message is shown.


Deep exploration mission complete
Confirmation of planet decent in resource, poor in defense
Intercepted transmissions place name of planet as Jadid Sahara
Intel suggests a non-labor capacity
Humans in evidence there; suggest capture
Freighter traffic observed at range
Returning to base for resupply and reinforcements
Have waylaid a freighter full of passengers for homeworld
All are either captive or dead; have commandeered ship
ETA 6 cycles
<<System sensor data enclosed>>


Sshrrakaa looks at the message again, making certain she didn't miss anything. "Those are Scolopendran ships they've been scanning. That system is an Allied territory. And they're planning to make slaves of those passengers. How old is this message?"

"It is four days old. They are still enroute." The avatar of Wheeland clambers onto her shoulder.

"Hmmmm........I have a plan. Send an FTL boosted quantum entanglement message to the TYCS, and to the other Ranger Task Forces. And unpack those sub-space interdictor mines. We need them operational in one day. And alert the crew to condition yellow." Her hands ball into fists, and her breath issues forth in a hiss. "We have them..."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
<<Secure transmit>>
<<Encryption; locked>>
<<Dir: Task Force Hunter; Task Force Seeker; TYCS>>

This is Sub-Commander Sshrrakaa
We have the base Rabid in our sights
Have been monitoring comm traffic and ship scheduling
Intercepted comms suggest this is a central nexus
Packet enclosed contains all details gained from surveillance
Request reinforcements and coordination of effort
<<connect: packet 1>>
<<EYES ONLY; PACKET 2>>
(contains a copy of the intercepted and decrypted transmissions inbound to the station. For Commander and above security clearance)
<<END TRANSMIT>>

TYWS-SDF Oberon
GECSS 25 System
Medium Orbit over Cinder

"Incoming message from HQ, sir!" The technician's announcement is hardly needed; the standard coded teletype chatters as its daisywheel slams carbon-black letters onto onionskin paper with its distinctive machine-gun staccato. Fleet Admiral Jonathan Drake, commanding officer of the system's defenses and de facto captain of Oberon, walks over almost nonchalantly to the steep ladder-like stairs leading up to the second level of the technician's gallery, stepping up a few so the technician doesn't have to stretch too far as she hands down the tractor-fed hardcopy.

Drake frowns as he looks over the transmission.
<<INCOMING TRANSMISSION>>
QUANTUM ENCRYPTED COMMUNICATION
TYCSHQ -> SDF OBERON
[1056-QBIT TIME-SENSITIVE AUTHORIZATION KEY RECEIVED/CONFIRMED]

FLEET ADMIRAL DRAKE <FULL STOP>

INTELLIGENCE ALERT FROM TASK FORCE SEEKER <STOP> FLEET RABID DETECTED <STOP> HIGH PROBABILITY OF ATTACK ON JADIID SAHARA <FULL STOP>

CONFIRM RECEIPT IMMEDIATELY AND REPORT COMBAT STATUS OF CINDER SYSTEM<FULL STOP>

[1056-QBIT AUTHORIZATION SIGNATURE--CINCTYCS]
<<TRANSMISSION ENDS>>
Folding the sheet in two, he tucks it behind the duty flap of his double-breasted uniform before turning back towards the semicircle of officer stations in the forward-center of the command room. "Set the ship at Event Condition Two," he says perfunctorially, stalking back to his console. "I want a full report on the status of the militia air wing and all combat stations."

TYWS-BB Scolomorph
Strategy Planning Center

The SPC resembles a command room, but with a lot fewer people working and far more strategic displays. The ring-shaped table, sufficient to seat about six, is currently dominated by a spherical display of the local galactic arm area in its center, several lines of various colors ranging from green to red stretching from the yellow dot in the center to the blue dot off towards one edge. "It's not looking too good, ma'am," Scolomorph says as she shakes her avatar's head sadly, "Cinder's our newest periphery and so we don't have any good routes to it. Best possible standard route is six days, and that last jump is on the month recharge scale. If we were to jump there now, it'd be around five months months before the tesseract could realign itself back to standard."

Sky Marshal Hayes folds her arms and frowns. "We definitely have more ground forces than RABID does, so we really should move to support. What's more important is getting those superiority fleets there in time--what fleet's closest? All of DIPTYCH is around Sol, except for Farentino's boys, and that's twelve more leeches distant."

"The Fifth and Sixth Combined are on colony patrol; the Sixth under Sky Marshal Dieu-Hien is within three days most-efficient-jump. Just a moment..." The penguin-avatar pauses with the disconcerting suddenness of a frame in a film catching in crystal clarity. "...TYCSHQ confirms similar situation. It could be possible to divert it to attack RABID's staging point."

"It's a Combined, though, not a Superiority..." Hayes muses, tapping one boot against the deck. "While it still has qualitative superiority against RABID, RABID will have numerical superiority and the eraser-heavy armaments of the Sixth's escort carriers will not help much. Still... send recommendation to HQ that the Sixth Combined divert. I'm going to set the First Expeditionary at MEJ to support Oberon if they break through. The Second Superiority will proceed at MEJ to be ready to support the Sixth Combined just in case."

"Even at MEJ," the ship replies, "the Second Superiority is only likely to get within month-recharge range at best before the Sixth Combined will require its assistance."

"They'd best husband those secondary cores, then," Hayes says simply. "That's DIPTYCH's plan, pending HQ's decision to divert the Sixth Combined."

With the distinctive purple flash of a starlane exit, a small tramp freighter appeared on the edge of the Sslaa system and contacted the proper authorities to file a flight plan.

Especially after Leoluus Oraborus’ fall, Trilarian interest in developing their Sslaa colony had fallen off steeply. The colonists had been forced, by a lack of trained personnel, to rely on the Sakkrans for most traffic control and other extraplanetary services. No one liked to admit it in open, but there was growing discontent with the lack of contact with Trilar or the Empire.

It was as far from Evenvent and Yerasael as any Trilarian could get.

((sorry this took so short and long in coming: Friday is a bad, bad day. :())

Director Seerak had noticed a significant drop in the level of star-freighters arriving of Trilarian origin for their colony. He brought up his system traffic manifest in his office on Vubz, and looked through it carefully. Yes, it seems that, since that last starliner heading to S-IV, there's been no activity or requests for clearance. I'd better check in on them.

And with that, he left his office to get to the command center. he observed the still-embryonic shell of the newest addition to the fleet, beaming with pride. Entering the command center, he pulls one of the comm officers to the side. "Get me in touch with planetary command on Sslaa IV, the Trilarian colony. I begin to worry for their well-being." The comm officer nods, and sends off the request for the Director.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Director Seerak requests information regarding the status of yoru colony. A significant drop-off in ship activity on your parts has been noted. Respond.

TYWS-SDF Oberon
Strategy Planning Center

The ship's Strategy Officer checks off points on his databoard one by one, stylus tapping gently against the plastic screen. The databoard truly was one of the oddities of the Scolopendran influence on the TYCS; while being able to fulfill the most basic functions of a simple personal data assistant and tablet computer--those being data organization--it is made out of a durable pulp-composite casing and has a steel spring-loaded clip to hold papers against it, allowing it to serve the purpose of a clipboard as well. In fact, it does resemble inexpensive, durable clipboards of time past, with the only difference being that it is about three times thicker, has a durable screen in front, and a few dataports on bottom. "The colonial Viper wing on orbital platforms around Cinder are enough for interception defense of those platforms but don't have the range or the capability to be much threat to the Sakkran fleet. Yari-class orbitals are still under construction and therefore not much more aid. Jadiid Sahara is simply a research facility and lacks any real defenses of its own. That leaves us, our three M.I. divisions, and our three LAG wings."

Drake grumbles, turning a little to lean over the circular table as if peering more closely at the nebulous representation of the GECSS 25 system could suddenly give him the right answer. "Essentially, we can't protect both places at once. Cinder pretty much precludes combat, being overoxygenated--they do anything other than blink down there and whoof, they're fireballs. They can't even go over Mach 3, lest the air start ionizing, releasing energy... and whoof again. Necessitates a careful gravy burn for slow entry, and they don't like using gravy--let's call the surface of Cinder safe for now."

"Sounds reasonable, sir."

"The orbital platforms have some defenses but they're vulnerable to a concerted first strike; also, that's where the majority of our colonists are. We can possibly take on the enemy fleet and probably win, but not before they can do severe damage to whatever they want to in the system. Protecting those platforms is our primary priority. What I need for you to do, Commander," he switches gears, looking over at his subordinate, "is get in touch with your opposite number in the First Expeditionary and come up with a cohesive defensive plan in case they do have to jump. Get the Sky Marshal's and my approval when you're done."

The Strategy Officer nods curtly, sliding his databoard behind his back as he folds his arms. "Acting, sir."

TYWS-SCV Chironex
Flagship, Sixth Combined Fleet
On Colony Patrol

Lieutenant Commander Jeffries, the second-shift Officer of the Watch, raises an eyebrow as the teletype starts chattering, still refraining from leaving the utilitarian but comfortable chair that sits at her station. "What's the sitch, Comms?"

The communication technician looks over at the summary display on the teletype, providing the most basic information. "From HQ, to us, immediate acknowledgement required..." He frowns a little. "Combat orders."

Jeffries perks up in her chair, then immediately leans over and depresses the public-address switch. "Sky Marshal Dieu-Hien and all command crew, please report to command room immediately. All stations, set Alert Condition Two, Officer of the Watch's directive." She frowns a little, just the barest hint of deeper thoughts as the lights take on a somewhat yellower tint thanks to the condition lights rimming the room.

* * *

<<BEGIN TRANSMITTING>>
QUANTUM ENCRYPTED COMMUNICATION
SCV CHIRONEX -> TF HUNTER, TF SEEKER, TYCS
[1056-QBIT TIME-SENSITIVE AUTHORIZATION KEY SENT]

MESSAGE ACKNOWLEDGED<STOP>MOVING TO INTERCEPT<FULL STOP>

SITUATION REPORT ATTACHED<STOP>[ATTACHMENT]<STOP>PLEASE HAVE REINFORCEMENT ON STANDBY<FULL STOP>

WE WILL NOT LET THEM ESCAPE<FULL STOP>

[1056-QBIT AUTHORIZATION SIGNATURE--SKYMSL DIEU-HIEN MANH CAO]
<<CEASE TRANSMITTING>>

His Excellency the Priatch Sslaavent, the Governor-General and Viceroy of Trilarian Sslaa IV, received the message. Truth be told, he had become increasingly worried about the lack of communication and traffic with the rest of the Empire; his requests for information had gone unanswered. All in all, he felt very isolated here in the middle of the Sakkran Empire, simply waiting to be written off in the event of war.

Director Seerak requests information regarding the status of yoru colony. A significant drop-off in ship activity on your parts has been noted. Respond.

The tone of Director Seerak's note was hardly unusual for the gruff and forward Sakkrans yet Sslaavent could not help but worry. Could this perhaps be the first news of a declaration of war between Trilar and Sakkra, a cautious probe into the defenses (or lack thereof) of Sslaa IV? Should he respond? Forward the message to Evenvent?

Yes, that sounded wise. He routed the message to the Minister of Foreign Affairs with a wave of his manipulators. Still, the immediate problem of a response had not been solved. With slow motions, he began to dictate a reply for Seerak - something noncommittal, he hoped.

My good Director Seerak,

It is true that certain circumstances have necessitated the temporary slow-down of intraimperial trade in the Trilarian Systems; however the situation is not serious. I understand the problem to be with the Sanaran starlane; our Ministry of Transportation assures me that any and all problems will soon be solved.

Thank you for your consideration,

Priatch Sslaavent
Her Trilarian Majesty's Viceroy on Sslaa IV

It was with no small matter of hesitation that Sslaavent dispatched that message. Would that the Old One delay Sakkran meddling long enough for a conclusive word on the situation to arrive from Trilar! He turned and headed for his transport; he'd heard that an actual ship from the Empire had arrived recently and wished to investigate.

AA problem with the Trilarian starlanes? Hmmmmm...... Seerak reads the message from the Sslaa IV colony with what passes for a thoughtful frown coming over his coal-scaled face. I will give them the benefit of the doubt. He looks over the comm officer's shoulder at the display. "Send them a reply. We acknowledge their message, and will get some astrophysicists on the job to discern possible problems with their starlanes."

"You really think it is as they say?" The comm officer raises one eye up to look at Seerak, who shakes his head in the negative.

"No, but we have no evidence to say otherwise. Something is up between the Emperor's return, the drop-off in activity and the speeding up of enhancements for the ships. But if they will not come forth with information, we will not pry it from them. Not yet, anyways. Trilarians are a secretive lot....." He stands and walks off as the comm officer tends to his task.

He heads for the tactical command a short distance from the comms station. "Director on deck!" The crew stands and salutes Seerak as he enters. "To your posts, gentlebeings." The defense coordinator is approached.

"Any unusual activity to report?" Seerak looks about the yellow-lit room at the multiple screens showing info for the entire system.

"No, Director. Save for the low amount of traffic from Trilar, all is nominal." The defense coordinator looks about as well, and points to the display showing defense drone scans in the Sszeera Belt. "We've finished peppering the area there with FTL interdictor mines and BP Defense drones, as well as DefSat 1 and 2 models."

"Very good. Increase the patrols for the system edge, and see about extending scan range."

"Any particular reason for that?" The quizzical look on the defense coordinator's face is quite clear.

"No, not yet. Just erring on the side of caution....."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

<<Vubz System Command>>
<<Transmit begins>>

We acknowledge reception of your message. Have an astrophysicist enroute to determine possible causes for starlane difficulties, and deep space observation. Will advise if we find information relating to this case.

<<Transmit ends>>

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

The six ship's commanders from task force Watcher gather aboard the briefing room of Wheeland. The light is dim and yellowish, and a 3-D display of the sub-space lines for the area in a six-day span. they hunch over to peer at the display while the Sub-commander details her plan.

"We need to intercept that ship coming to Base Rabid with those civilians. The last thing we need is for them to have hostages when we try to take the base. We don't know if they already have civilians there, but we're operating under the assumption they are not. Here's where we are...." A pulsing red light shows their present location. "....here's where their planned route takes them...." A pulsing green light shows on the far end of the route displayed. "....and here's where we lay a trap." A white light shows slightly less than one day's travel from where they are.

"We're going to pepper the area with interdictor mines and BP drones. The ship's captains are ex-I.S.N. people, so the probable formation will be two ships at point, two flanking and one taking up the rear. The hijacked ship is likely to be either a Merchant Navy medium freighter, or a heavy bulk transport." The ship hull silhouettes come up, showing older I.S.N. makes along with full tactical information.

"As soon as the trap is sprung, we'll have to lay out some heavy neutrino and EMP disturbances to jam comms so they don't get a message out. Disable the ship's engines first, then their weapons and sensors. Orders from the top are to take prisoners alive, especially command staff. This means we'll need to do Alpha Strikes in a synchronized fashion." She looks about the room, at the faces deep in thought and concentration. "Are there questions?"

Kheel looks up. "Boarding situations. We'll need to secure the transport during this, right? To keep them from harming the civilians during the fight."

Sshrrakaa nods hehead. "Good point. We'll have Ranger M.A.U.s at the entry point for the incoming hostiles. Their melano-sense armor should keep them from being detected. Hopefully surprise will give us some time to get them aboard the transport. I want full Deep One and Grass-Walkers teams on that. These ships are pre-Awakening, so they'll have no reasonable counters to them. Anything else?" The heads of all in the room nod in the negative. "Alright, then. Let's get under-way, and brief your teams on this in transit. The TYWS has the coordinates to Base Rabid now, so they should be here at some point." The room clears out, all ship's commanders heading to their respective ships.

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

<<Secure transmit>>
<<QUANTUM ENCRYPTED COMMUNICATION; locked>>
<<Dir: TYWS Command>>

This is Sub-Commander Sshrrakaa
Moving to intercept incoming rabid ships
Attached packet details plans
No abnormal traffic noticed at Base Rabid
Will advise to situation

<<Packet upload pending>>
<<upload complete>>
<<TRANSMIT ENDS>>

“I could have told you this would be a bad idea,” grouched Jaanhoo Oob, the President of the Council of Sslaa IV, flapping about his manipulators in distress. “‘There’s a problem with the starlanes?’ Are you daft? It will take no research to find that you were lying, and then this entire planet will be crawling with lizards!”

“Calm yourself,” insisted Sslaavent with a low rumble. “There may yet be a way to salvage the situation.” He paused. “Though I confess that I cannot think of it.”

“You’ll excuse my emoting,” replied Jaanhoo, his voice a mockery of the viceroy’s calm tone, “but I am somewhat concerned - Her Majesty has abandoned us here on the galaxy’s edge to fend for ourselves within a day’s swim of millions - billions - of Sakkrans. They are so close that I cannot but hear the infernal groaning of their stomachs at night!”

“There may yet be a way,” said Sslaavent, cutting off Jaanhoo’s increasingly irrelevant rambling before the excitable president got to how much he abhorred the taste of water after a Sakkran had swum in it.

“A way?”

“A current, if you will, between the eddies of neglect and tyranny.”

“You don’t mean - how are we to proceed with such an enterprise?”

“Carefully and as slowly as events will allow. However, we must forestall Sakkran suspicion in what ways as we can. I will draft a message at once to this Seerak.”

“And what am I to do?”

“You must sound out the Council. Without their firm support, we cannot contemplate our separation from the Empire.”

“They will never agree to being bait for the Sakkrans.”

“Leave interstellar issues to me, Jaanhoo. Domestic events will certainly provide enough to keep you busy.”

Director Seerak,

The Trilarian Empire thanks you for your prompt response. However, I have only just received word from the Ministry of Transportation that the starlane’s problem - it was in need of routine maintenance, they assure me - has been solved and that traffic between ourselves and Sanara will resume promptly. There is no need to waste your good astrophysicists’ time.

Again, thank you for your diligence in noticing the problem and prompt response.

Priatch Sslaavent
HTM Viceroy on Sslaa IV

At the ambush site

"All stations check in green, Sub-Commander." The Ranger ships were abuzz with activity as everyone prepared for the rescue and assault operations. Sshrrakaa got on electro-chem comms to prevent errant transmissions from leaking about. Alright, everyone. To your posts quickly. We got a small time-window on this and I don't want screw-ups." She shut off the comm-system, and turned to the First. "How are we looking?"

"Assault teams are on-board their transports, which are leaving to maneuver into their positions. Interdictor mines are layed out in a web. They'll 'tangle' the fabric of sub-space forcing the Rabid ships into real-space. BP drones have been fed silhouettes on the targetted ships, and we're currently getting into position ourselves." The First looks up after his briefing. "All we need now is the word."

Sshrrakaa turns in her seat and looks at the displays. "Good. We have ten minutes to get in position. In eight, I want this area saturated with EMP and jamming radiation. Let's make them think they just stumbled into a nebula here. The temporary confusion should buy the assault teams some time to do their jobs."

Sslaavent

“Is he alive?” asked Daanada, craning his body around the doctor to look at Taee’s motionless body.

“Yes - quit fidgeting! This is a delicate operation and you’re only disturbing the waters!” The doctor put down his instrument and regarded Daanada with a single bulbous eye. “If you’re this tense, the hall is perfectly suited for swimming laps.”

“Er, of course,” said Daanada. “But I’d like to stay here - I was the one who found His Majesty.”

“And you’ll be the one who killed him if you don’t remove yourself at once.”

“As you command,” replied Daanada. With a last sullen glance and a beat of his powerful tail, the young Trilarian squirted from the operating room.

Orbit - Trilar

“As you can see, Chancellor, the Thunderer is quite a ship,” said the chief engineer at one of Trilar’s orbiting staryards. “She’s twenty per cent more voluminous than Repulse and Renown and much more dense - she’s as armored as a pig shark, sir.”

“Slower than our battlecruisers, though?” asked Yerasael, his tone one of utter boredom.

“By about half. But don’t worry: she’ll take her share of punishment and, as I’m sure you can see from those pockmarks - they’re actually missile pods - she’ll deal out her share too.”

“Impressive,” nodded Yerasael without inflection. “And the new battlecruisers we ordered?”

“Inflexible and Indefatigable? They were launched just a little while ago from one of our facilities on the far side of Trilar. They’re fine ships, too, sir, fast as anything we’ve ever made and with a blistering battery of spinal mount hard beams. They’ll be able to back up the scouting forces while our Battle Squadrons maneuver into position...”

“And these ships will be able to fight the Sakkrans?”

“Well, I don’t know - our current build plan gives us - what? - ten modern battleships, four modern battlecruisers, just shy of a dozen proper escort ships, and seven modern scouts, plus about a score of obsolescent vessels?” The engineer chuckled. “That’s enough for one proper task force and a few scouting units, plus the battlecruiser fleet. And when you figure that any Sakkran ship is as good as five of ours.” He shook his head in a remarkably human gesture. “I don’t like those odds.”

Sslaavent

The Priatch Sslaavent reviewed his message and its strange human characters one final time. So this was what it felt like to commit high treason, and his personal translator had probably done its usual terrible job. He sat, gills flapping, examining the transmission one last time and then, as much to be rid of the thing as to let the addressee receive it, slammed a manipulator down on the ‘send’ button.

Donated at Sslaavent

Dear Governor of Sslaa II Bartolio,

It is known to me that the contact between Trilarian peoples and the Dread Dominion has been extremely limited, which is the reason why I now am sending to you this message.

At the risk of blunt being, I will blunt be: the Empress of Us is now abandoning us to our own. Contact with Trilar and the Empire is no more and our pleas they have not heeded. Sslaa IV no longer feels itself in Trilarians’ sphere of influence.

But we have many neighbors of the bescaled sort, who much frighten us, quaking with fear. So now I put to you: will you offer to us of the Dread Lady herself the protection? We are exposed and without friend here on the galaxy’s edge. Sslaa IV needs your help.

The Priatch of Sslaavent here signs.

((Praise the Old One for Spring Break! I didn’t think I’d ever have time to catch up in this thread! :)))

Now, I -know- I had a post going for all this. I'm certain of it. And somewhere in the mix of all the chaos, it didn't get posted. My apologies, seriously. o.o; Hope this isn't so horribly late as to be unforgivable.


To say that the missive was a surprise would be an understatement on the magnitude of stating the last time Morgoth wreaked havok on Mars was just a minor diplomatic oversight.
Not only was it a precedent, but it was from a people they had previously had next to no official contact with.

It was also from a people who had ready access and rights to all that water.

While this was not a concern to the Dominion overall, being a nation who's borders were mostly ocean, it was of great interest to the colony of Nuova Toscana on Sslaa II - a desert world. Transporting water such long distances was both costly and inefficient. Efforts had been made to build solar water stations, but that was a project that was still in its beginnings, and hardly perfected as yet. Rationing was the order of the day, and a strict rationing it was.

Another concern, and one more close to the interest of the nation overall, was that of keeping the peace within the Sslaa system. The Dominion had always enjoyed comfortable relations with the Sakkrans. Given this, they felt relatively certain that any 'difficulties' could be worked out. The Trilarans were requesting assistance and protection. This would be an acceptable arrangement, so long as they did not use that protection as a shield from behind which to launch any actions against their 'scaled nemesis'. After much discussion, it was decided that something could quite possibly be ... arranged.

To the Esteemed Pritach of Sslaavent,

Please know that we understand this could not have been an easy decision, asking another nation for assistance. We appreciate the delicate situation you find yourselves in, and feel that it would be unforgiveable of us not to assist a fellow neighbor in their time of need. On the authority of Nathicana D'Aquisto, Dread Lady and First Imperatrice of the Dominion, I offer to enter into negotiations for creating a Trilaran protectorate under the oversight of the Dominion, for mutual benefit.

Allow me to offer some proposals so that you may have time to consider before we arrange a more formal meeting to discuss. First, a protectorate status would not preclude your people governing themselves. We feel it is in our mutual best interests to not impose any change in your system of government or rule. What levels we will insist on having a say in are any military actions, or those that may have an effect on either our colony in Sslaa, our earthbound nation, or other holdings.

Your people would have rights as Dominion citizens, and as such, we would require the proper identification so that we may ensure both their safety, and be able to intervene on their behalf should the occasion arise. Along with this, it would be expected that they adhere to Dominion Law, insofar as it may apply to this unique situation. Again, this is seen as something that would apply to outer dealings, not inner governing. We are confident that your internal system for keeping the peace will be more than sufficient, and need not be tampered with by ourselves.

Taxes are a simple fact in the Dominion. Our proposal is, rather than impose taxes, that we be allowed unlimited water and fishing rights in Trilaran waters. Given that only the needs of the colony would be supported by such, we are confident that the impact would be negligible.In addition, we offer an exit clause, should the time come when such arrangements no longer suit our mutual purposes, and one that either side may engage. The usual negotiations on the finer points of that would be a topic for the aforementioned close discussion.

The details as to how and where such a meeting can take place, it would seem, depend greatly on our ability to do so, given the differences in each race's needs and abilities to adapt. If such things could be handled via video conferencing or the like, we would be pleased to make the arrangements.

We hope that these initial proposals give you something to think on and consider, and that you may find the arrangements as something we can work with. Please take whatever time you need to discuss, then get back to us when you have decided to proceed or not. We patiently await your reply.

Sincerely,

--Alessandra Bartolio, Dominion Governor of the Nuovo Toscana Colony on Sslaa II

Sslaavent read through the entire letter twice to make sure that he had not missed anything. On one hand, it was reassuring to know that the Dominion was interested, at least, in talking. One might have expected a flat refusal to such an extraordinary request. Having any sort of reassurance against a Sakkran attack and annexation, even one so very preliminary. In the back of his mind always swam the quiet reminder of childhood stereotypes: humans are not to be trusted, every bit as much as Sakkrans are to be hated. But, with no gasbags or Nommo around, there simply was no better choice for an ally.

He thought of this Bartolli’s last sentence and of the President of the Sslaa IV’s council - there would be debate needed, no matter how many times Jaanhoo Oob assured him that the council would back the viceroy’s actions.

And what of the Empire, wherever it was? Suppose Her Majesty decided to care about her farthest-flung colony again, only to find them an independent protectorate of the Dominion of the Dread Lady? And the church? Living under the rule of landwalkers was surely blasphemy to the Old One. But this was no time to hesitate! Sslaavent’s manipulators flew across his console as his crafted a reply to the governor - making sure to keep it short, as he knew it would end up as difficult reading - and sent it through the translator. He knew that he was tipping his hand slightly, allowing Bartolio to see too many cards, but time was of the essence.

Dear Governor of Sslaa II Bartolio,

Thank you from us for the promptness of your reply, gracious and kind.

In Council have reviewed us your proposal and find it all the more acceptable. Being that which pressing urgency forces upon us, such a meeting as you suggest is greatly requested in a location of your choosing, attended by myself and my top advisors.

The people of Us do greatly your Help desire. Many are too scared of the Sakkran to even swim from their homes at night. With the reassurance of as great a power as the Dominion, surely usual life to Sslaavent may return. Your terms, as stated thus in the communication of us, seem most gracious and gracious.

Would that we may meet as soon as possible,

The Priatch of Sslaavent here signs.

Now, I -know- I had a post going for all this. I'm certain of it. And somewhere in the mix of all the chaos, it didn't get posted. My apologies, seriously. o.o; Hope this isn't so horribly late as to be unforgivable.

((Heh, your reply was absolute lightning compared to mine. I hope all are still interested in this story line, despite my (far too long) absence from the NS scene.))

(OOC: Make with the RP, fish-paste. Hee haa!)

(ooc: Lo, I have connection again! And yes, still very much interested. Just need a tad bit of time to read up and reply here and there, and I'm set! Apologies for delays - moving can sometimes have unexpected consequences, even if one has planned carefully. Damn the system and 'loss of orders'. Damn it, I say. *grins*)

Having passed on the information along the proper avenues, and having recieved the go-ahead to proceed as seemed best, Governor Bartolio prepared another missive confirming a proposed meet. What remained to be seen was just how this was to be accomplished.

The Most Honorable Priatch of Sslaavent:

Our thanks for your kind words, and the opportunity to assist in your time of need. We are prepared to meet with you at your earliest convenience, and ask only that said meetingplace is one that will offer some measure of comfort to each delegation. We apologize for our lack of knowledge as to your capabilities in regards to such things, but we wish to make every effort not to have you and yours at a disadvantage. This arrangement is meant to be one of mutual benefit, not one in which your people are subjugated and repressed.

Please advise us as to your particular needs and preferences that we may more readily acommodate them. I would think that a location on Sslaa IV where you are already located would likely be a more accessable spot for the meet.

We have already advised our allies (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=9319336&postcount=363) of our intentions here, leaving no doubt or opportunity for misunderstanding. It is hoped that your citizens will be soon feel at ease once more.

With respect,

--Alessandra Bartolio, Dominion Governor of the Nuovo Toscana Colony on Sslaa II