NationStates Jolt Archive

There can be no question, the beginning of the Age of the Third Empire of Valinon marked the beginning of the Age of the Valinor in the Raumreich Oversector. Economically, militarily, politically, and culturally the United Star Empire of Valinon dominated the Raumreich as a growing regional super-power. The Ortagan Hegemony may often tout its vast armies and fleets or its vast sphere of influence, but it is quite clear which of the Raumreich’s two largest powers has the most staying power. In the future perhaps, the Verniians, Vaku, Wickians, or Boroglians may rise to challenge the balance of power—but that day appears to be far in the future. Like the Europeans during the nineteenth and early twentieth century reigned supreme on Old Earth, so the Star Empire holds is stranglehold on power in the Raumreich.
In the international marketplace of the Oversector, the imperial mark is the standard of trade—accepted by all nations, no matter how loathed the nation it represents may be. Backed by the combined economic powers of the Imperial Trade and Industrial Exchange, and a plethora of interests stretching from the Great March of New Ortaga to the Sol System to the Orion Sector the imperial mark is a ever-present symbol of the Star Empire’s economic prowess. Over half of the freight in the Raumreich is moved by imperial registered merchantmen, and even more of the passengers that regularly traverse the length and breadth of the vast realm of stars. Control of over two-thirds of the Raumreich’s invaluable wormhole junction network rests in the hands of the Star Empire, and the collected tariffs enrich the Valinor government in trillions of imperial marks each year. Agricultural and other foodstuffs from the systems of Chandara and Pelledrine are heavily sought, the heavy industrial goods of Madras are even greater prizes, and the shipyards of Yalta and Alpha Centauri run at a frantic pace. Not to mention the virtual monopoly on FTL communications the Valinor have achieved with their Nu-space network via Nova Technologies efforts.
Politically and militarily the Star Empire rules through a subdued policy, using a web of intrigue and alliances to maintain the balance of power in their favor. The might of the Kriegsmarine and the Reichswehr is used sparingly, with large units of either branch of Her Majesty’s Armed Forces rarely seen outside of the Valinor home stars. The vast populations of the Dominions of Alpha Centauri, Yalta, Madras, Pelledrine, Chandara, Archangel, and the Great Outer Dominion—as well as their industrial capacity—serve as the basis of the Star Empire’s power in the Raumreich. Valinon is a solid mass, opposing the relatively hollow power of the Ortagan Hegemony that sprawls along its border. And the other nations surrounding the fringes of the Star Empire live both love and hate the empire, as has been the case throughout history with any nation so precariously balanced at the top of the international balance of power.
However, the age of Valinor dominance of the Raumreich is as much by fear as anything else. Fear of the possible repercussions of Valinon withdrawing its support from their economy keeps the Ortagan Hegemony from ever truly challenging the Star Empire. Fear of the Kriegsmarine and the Reichswehr keep the Verniians from openly seeking to fully reclaim their true power from the Star Empire. Fear of what will happen to them should the Valinor withdraw their alliance keeps the Vaku from fully distancing themselves from their carefully cultivated alliance with the Alderman who sets on the Throne of the Twin Suns. Fear as much as any other force the Valinor control keeps their neighbors in line, no matter how much the citizens of the Star Empire seek to deny it.
And behind this strange contradictory nature of fear, respect, awe, and power lie a people and a culture just as contradictory. Even after the seventy years since the end of the Great Raumreich War, the Valinor remain insular and isolated from the bulk of Raumreich affairs. They are both isolationists and interventionists at once, serving to counter the Ortagan Hegemony and various other nations only when it suits their purposes. Behind their walls of intrigue and isolation, the Valinor home stars have become a thing of mystery. While no one is actually denied entrance, the feeling of many other Raumreichers is that the citizens of the Star Empire see them as children, as a charge the Valinor much watch—however unwillingly. Tied to Sol by diplomacy, tied to the Raumreich by the military-industrial structure, and tied to the galaxy by an ever-expanding sphere of trade and commerce the United Star Empire of Valinon is a nation that seems to be either in its greatest golden age—its Pax Valinor—or on the verge of over-extension. Which side of the extreme the Valinor have reached remains to be seen.

OOC: This is to be half-interactive RP, half-storyline. The first part of this thread will likely by dominated by the exchange student program Valinon will host shortly. It is flagged for all Raumreichers, Martian nations, KIST members, and a few others which Valinon shares close ties with--but new interest from the interstellar and other communities are encouraged.

"Primary singularity reactor online in fifteen seconds," Vasily Malik nods to one of the young technicians manning one of the terminals that links the operation vessel registered to the Nova Technology Syndicate to the new ansible platform. As head of Nova Tech's ansible research division, Malik has traveled all the way from Sol to oversee the test of the first platform. Wanting to be here when the moment of his new development in Nova Tech's expanding communications monopoly is tested, and its efficiency revealed.
"Secondary reactor set to enter stand-by mode and suspend active operation in twenty seconds," the same technician report.

"I have completed the upload of the Feather beam coordinates to project a whisker link through the wormhole terminals event horzions, Supervisor Malik." comes the smooth voice of the ships AI.

"Thank you, Shepard," Malik says, detachedly. All of Nova Tech's ships now feature the standardized "Shepard" AI. True it can still evolve to adapt to individal ship and project needs, but of Shepard and his numerous brothers spring from the same basic lines of adaptive programing.

Malik turns to look at the organic-esque bumps on the generally spherical shape of the platform. It is siloutted against the raging atomic fires of the Yalta system's primary.

"Singularity reactor online and operating at capacity. Matter/anti-matter reactor entering suspended stand-by mode.....now."

"Shep, bring primary systems online now."

"Yes, Mr. Malik."

"Erin, do we have positive feed from our recon net?"

"All probes reported in seven minutes ago. We should have positive confirmation of new Nu-space links if everything goes well within three minutes."

"Good."

"Ansible link projectors reporting operational. Feather beam activated and preparing to establish links to Roum and Alpha Centauri systems via wormhole event horizon interaction. Point defense systems are activated."

"Reading tracking problems in PD laser clusters six and nine. Running diagnostic."

"We have confirmation from the drones! Stabilized Nu-space connection formed within the Malik Radius. We have operational platform! I repeat, we have an operational platform. Return feed from Madras, Axis, Gregor, Alpha Centauri, and Roum system reports connection is stable!"

Malik turns to holographic map toward the rear of the small, arrowhead-shaped vessels cockpit/bridge. It shows a vast sphere reaching out one hundred light years from the rough center of the Yalta system, with two thin lines streaking toward the wormhole terminals that lead to Roum and Alpha Centauri. It was the culmination of over nine years of research and development, and Malik swore his platforms would help Nova Tech recover the edge it had lost in part to Mangala Corp.

"Shep, send a message to Frau Rosewater. Tell her the ansible research division reports the platform project is a success, and that I recommend the board approve a production phase as soon as possible."

"Do you want to send the message via Feather satellite network?"

"Why use a dated system, Shep. Send it off the ansible. No piece of technology will remain a virgin from use forever," Malik smiles with a predatory glee.

United Valinon News Network, News-n-Brief

Nova Technologies Announces Successful Ansible Platform Test in Yalta

Kriegsmarine Withdraws Boroglian Expeditionary Force

Boroglian Ascendancy Remains Under Control of the United Directorate

Her Majesty and the Greater Empire of Vakutu Condemn Verniian Action Against Boroglian Ascendancy

Tensions Between Wickian Commonwealth and Ortagan Hegemony Growing

Wickian Commonwealth Said to be Losing War On Colonial Sector Fronts! Reports of Kriegsmarine Observation Denied


"Anything new, Sirius?"

"No. As usual the rest of the Raumreich is ready to plunge into oblivion," says Sirius Markham, commander of the Imperial Academy of Science and Technology's vessel Meier sets his comp-pad down and turns to Anita Patria, his second-in-command and astro-navigator.

"I think the Ortagans spread this disease personally. Some sort of madness they can send out across space," Sirius smiles widely and chuckles.

"I certainly wouldn't put it past His Holiness The Hegemon. Which probability location are we coming up on?"

"Number four," Anita says, turning to her displays. "After this we have six and eight and then it looks like we can conclude the Academy's latest attempt to single out the location of the last three wormhole junction terminii."

Sirius sighs, "Well, there are only so many places in the Twin Suns the damnable terminii can hide in at least. Eventually we will hit up on them all."
"I wouldn't mind locating one ourselves though," Anita says with a wistful sigh.
"Likewise," Sirius turns around at his station and watches as the HD display begins to count down the kilometers to the next inspection sight.

For the past fifty-seven years the Valinor had tried to unlock the location of the last three terminii the complex equations of the Dorlin Wormhole Theory mechanics said their junction should have. So far efforts first led by the Imperial Astronomical Investigation Agency (IAIA)--the Imperial University's astrolonomical research organ--and now the combined might of the Imperial Academy of Science and Technology had not born any fruit. There had been a brief moment of hope when the Richton had thought it had found another terminal hidden near the one to Archangel, but it had turned out to be nothing more than an "energy echo." The latest refinements on Dorlin's original equations and led to the Academy dispatching the Meier to inspect twelve new possibilities scattered across the mid and outer portions of the Valinor home system of Alpha Centauri. Now the Meier was on its return journey, and still no luck.

"Gene?" Sirius says as the marker slips below the three thousand kilometer mark. The hologram of a gangly figure Meier's incarnation of the Gene standard AI common to all Academy research vessels appears.

"Yes, Sirius?"

"Deploy our Sakai probe compliment again. I want one on a powered trajectory to take it through the proposed point of the terminal's event horizon, and the other two to perform a standard vertical and horizontal axis rotation of the proposed site."

"Will do."

Sirius turns back to his controls, slowing the acceleration of the Meier to a mere eighty-nine gravities. He watches as the trio of spherical Sakai probes streak past the three joined circular observation decks that form the Meier's odd shaped prow. They rapidly accelerate away from their parent vessel, eager to perform their tasks.

Sirius sighs, Anita stands and stretches at her station.

"Coffee?"

"Why not? In ten minutes I will get to lay in a course so we can retreive our wayward children and move on to the next site," Sirius picks up his comp-pad, and accesses the headlines regarding Nova Tech's latest advance.

"Sirius?" says Gene, appearing behind Sirius, a quizzical look on its face.

"Yes, Gene?"

"I've lost contact with the lead probe?"

"Communication relay damaged?" Sirius says, supressing his urge to groan. The recovery from site four had been a little rough.

"No, the probe is no longer in-system. It is completely off the Nu-space transnet. I cannot raise it."

"What?" Sirius sits up fully now. "Have the other two probes do a video feed from the last eight-five seconds, starting now."

Sirius watches the feed from the other two probes, he follows the course of the lead probe intently. It approaches the estimated position of the terminal's event horizon and then vanishes.

"I'll be damned...," Sirius says quietly.

"What?" Anita says, returning with the coffee. "Oh God..." she says after seeing the vid feed.

"Gene, alert the Academy. Tell them we have isolated a possible wormhole event horizon. Moving to deploy Feather beam point satellites and trying to re-establish contact with Sakai Probe M-1A."

"Right away."

Sirius keys the activation of one of the Meier's limited cahce of Feather satellites, designed to expand and create a limited link to the Valinor ansible communication network known as Nu-space. He watches the javelin shaped object speed along the course of the lead Sakai probe.

"How long did you set the time delay for?" Anita says as the Feather disappears like its brave forebearer.

"Twenty-five seconds," Sirius watches the countdown he started in his own screen. "Come on, don't be some damn fluke!" he mutters, not entirely to himself.

Suddenly the empty vid-feed left by the lead probe is reaccquired, even as a limited vid-feed from the Feather comes online. The Feather's vid-feed shows the Sakai probe, intact, and bringing its formidable sensor packages online. Sirius gapes as the probe begins to send information flying back to the Meier, he hears Anita's own sharp intake of breath.

A soothing blue star sets in the center of the middle of a new star system. Sirius looks at the astronomical basic survey the probe is running. Two worlds orbit closer to the primary, one too far in-system to be in the biozone. The second world a larger terrestrial, well within the biozone. It is located close to an asteriod belt, most likely the remnants of another proto-terrestrial cousin. A single yellow and orange gas giant with its own complex system of moons and worldlets is the only guardian of the outer system besides a few distant Oort Cloud and Kupiter belt objects of barely notable size.

"Sirius, look. The probe is getting definite contacts from the second world, their going against the natural plane of orbit and a few are in artifical orbits with long-term decay. Definite artifical satellites as well."

"We've struck gold, Anita, we've struck gold," Sirius says. He smiles, "Make that coffee champagne! Gene, strike up the band! We just collected the Academy's prize for a terminal discovery and we have discovers rights for the voyage over! Bless Old Zakharov for dreaming that scheme up, and lets toast Her Majesty for the nice pile of marks we'll be collecting!"


IARV Meier (http://www.mst3kinfo.com/darkstar/images/DS%20Explorer.jpg)

The newly discovered terminal in the Alpha Centauri Wormhole Junction was now a center for growing activity. The Meier was no longer the only ship present. Now two other Academy research vessels, a pair of Academy supply ships, an Academy personnel transport, a pair of Kriegsmarine heavy cruiser, and a single Kriegsmarine defense sat-drone deployment ship surround the terminal. Sirius watches as the drone ship continues on its plodding course, sending out weapons satellites, mines, and a host of military grade sensors out to surround the terminal in a complex network. The Kriegsmarine cruisers sheparded the operation, interposed above and below the ends of the y-axis of the terminal's event horizon window.

Yes, the Academy may have some degree of predence over the fleet of the Star Empire, but the Star Lords of the Admiralty will not long let a wormhole terminus go unsecured--especially one into the home sytem of the Valinor. Still, even with the increased security, the Academy is preparing its first manned mission through the newly discovered wormhole. Four other probes have already made the voyage, gathering additional information on the system, its navigational hazards--or rather almost complete lack there in--, and the apparent activity based from the second world.

"The Ratheman IV is requesting permission to dock with us," Anita says. Sirius turns away from the activity around the terminal to look at the vessels "tactical" projection.

"Give them the clear. Gene, get ready to cycle the docking tube."

"Already prepared." says the AI.

The Academy is expanding on the Meier's staff before it attempts the translation across the wormhole terminal. Kodashi Saito, a planetologist; Kylara Apogee, a xenobiologist; Ibram Smokemont, one of the Academy's leading linguist; and Craig Neilson, a Ministry of Foreign Affairs representative rushed to the scene are being added to form the first contact crew.

"No doubt about it," Sirius says, turning back to the feeds from the out-system probes. "Definite activity from the second world. Looks like a fairly well-developed orbital infrastructure, if primitive technologically, and a number of civilian and military designs."

"Who do you think they are?" Anita says, joining Sirius at the feed.

"Who can tell," Sirius says with a shrug.

"Ratheman has docked with us. Docking tube connection is cleared, and atmosphere is being stabilized." says Gene. "I do hope this group isn't like the last one we had to host, Sirius. It took the cleaning drones ages to clean up the vomit. Whoever heard of sending a new technician out on a mission that involved zero-gee connection?"

Sirius smiles crookedly, "Quit complaining, Gene. It gave you something to do, didn't it?"

"I'd rather have a memory purge." the AI says haughtily. "Ratheman crew ferrying over now."

"Let's go," Sirius says. "Time to greet our new shipmates."

Federal Armed Forces Central Command Center(FAFCCC)
New Austin City, Planet Grayson
Yeltsin’s Star
Provincial Capital of the Federal Systems

Secretary of War Bernard Yanakov entered what was known as the “Pit” known to those who did not work there as FAFCCC. The chatter of voices and old-fashioned impact printers met them as they stepped through the soundproofed door, and Yanakov hid a grimace, for the clattering printers were even more primitive than those the original colonists had brought from Old Earth. They did the job, but they were one more indication of how far Grayson's technology had backslid.

However, with the last decade and Grayson’s joining the Federal Systems which brought along it being christened as a provincial capital, his nation began to take their first albeit small steps into advancing their tech base and educational systems for the first time in over three centuries. Retrograde movements was not what his nation needed at this time especially with the increased activities of Manpower Inc. and of course what all the powers of the Talbot cluster feared absorption by the great powers of the Raumreich.

“Sir, we thought you should see this, the outer sensor network picked up a hyper footprint here…” A young ensign told his superior while indicating to a point on the 2-d vertical panel that displayed all sensor contacts in Yeltsin’s star on its surface. “As you can see it is quite a distance beyond the hyper limit at least a few days travel. Commander Ashby believes that it might me a Manpower slaving party trying to raid the outer fringe again.”

“Alright, what’s our nearest mobile assets in the vicinity.” He asked.

“The Ares and the Abraham are conducting a long range patrol roughly six hours from the unknowns position. And I could have the Solomon there in another four if needed, sir.” Commander Ashby told Yanakov. Three ships…the largest of them was the light cruiser Solomon, the Ares was a mere sloop and the Abraham was a Frontier Patrol cutter assigned to the sloop, normally those two ship would be adequate for any Manpower raid, but they have been becoming more aggressive and better armed of late…He had a feeling that this was going to become one of those days.

OOC: Valinon I got class to go to now this is the first half my reply the next part will be up soon.

Two ships moved rapidly towards the unknown vessels location at a high rate of speed, only their forward hammerhead would have been visible to the naked eye the rest of the ship obscured by the gravity bands produced by sidewalls and the impeller wedge.

Lieutenant Commander Trey Bagwell commanded the lead ship of the division, the Ares. His ship was an old even by GSN standards, over sixty T-years old, but it was somehow comforting to Bagwell that his ship was more then twice as old as he was. She was an Ararat class sloop, a class of vessel comparable to most nation’s Destroyers, and if you asked Bagwell she was a tough old bitch. 20,000 km behind his ship was the Abraham as ship even smaller and more lightly armed then his own, but together it was all the GSN could scrape together on such short notice.

“Sir, we are currently three million km from the point of contact, so far no vessels on sensors, who ever it was that came into the system must have superior ECM and they are hiding under EmCom.” Bagwell’s sensor operator told him.

“Alright signal the Abraham tell them we will hold station here, and to launch recon drones, lets find who ever it is hiding out here. Also report the situation to Central, we will need more ships out here, I expect there is more happening here then meets the eyes.” Two reconnaissance drones and another from the Abraham sped away from the two ships looking for their evasive quarry.

<taggity tag tag>

"And that's that," Sirius says as the holoprojector shows the latest refinements on the size and energy schematics on the terminal's even horizon. "From the data streams, we believe we have isolated the location of the exit terminal of this latest wormhole. It looks to be roughly 356 light years from the Archangel, 423 light years from the nearest Ortagan world of Immolan, and over 1800 light years from Alpha Centauri. This world is apparently on the eastern band of a group of stars that form a loose cluster in the old Falas sphere of influence."

"The Backwater," mummers Kodashi. "This is probably the first notable contact any of the natives have had with the mainstream Raumreich in over a century."

Several of Kodashi's compatriots on the first contact team nod.

"What about the activity from the second world?" says Neilson. "Have they sent any sort of investigation? Any increased traffic?"

"Our probes do have two ships in bound on their current position. Both of which appear to be rough destroyer equivalents. So far they have made no hostile actions."

"Curiousity attracts the curious," says Smokemont with a smile. "And I must say at this point I'm very curious. When do we leave, Mr. Markham?"

Sirius smiles, "In an hour. The Academy is just making sure the final refinements on the wormhole terminal's navigation information are in."

"Works for me," says Smokemont.

**********

"Final navigation upload is in," Anita says. "Transferring it to your station, Sirius."

Sirius cracks his knuckles and looks around the bridge, only Smokemont and Apogee are present. The rest have chosen to make the brief journey from forward most of the Meier's observation decks. Smokemont and Apogee are both seated at two of the Meier's redundant information terminals.

"Beginning acceleration," says Sirius over the ship's intercom. "Laying in final course to take us across wormhole event horizon. Gene, give us a count down if you would."

"Translation in ten..."

"Verner drives enabled and ready for wormhole interface."

"Six..."

"All jump systems are green. Course adjustment corrected to within .008 percent error."

"Three..."

"Here we go, ladies and gentlemen. For Her Majesty, for the Star Empire, and for whoever is about to become our new neighbors."

"One."

The Meier crosses the event horizon of the latest wormhole junction terminal. For all intents and purposes the ship simply ceases to exist in the universe for a time increment that is immeasurable to even the Valinor. It disappears from Alpha Centauri, only to reappear in the new found system less than a second later.

"Translation successful, Sirius. Running extended system diagnostic now. Core systems all in the clear."

"Thanks, Gene."

"Verner system still green, Sirius," Anita says. "Ready for gravimetric drives whenever you are ready."

"Alright. Gene, give me an open channel. Time to announce ourselves properly."

"You have a channel, Sirius. Also, diagnostic is ninety-three percent complete and no secondary systems show signs of stress."

"Thanks, Gene. Go to comm now," Sirius presents himself to the vid-feed of the Meier's omni-directional broadcast system.

"This is Captain Sirius Markham of the Imperial Academy of Science and Technology research vessel Meier, registered to the United Star Empire of Valinon. We are here on a mission of scientific investigation regarding the latest discoveries in wormhole mechanics. I request permission to enter your system and would like to state that I carry representatives from both the Academy and Her Imperial Majesty Empress Friedelinde Alderman I's Government. I repeat, this is Captain Markham of the....."

Imperial Academy of Science and Technology, that institute meant nothing to Bagwell however the United Star Empire of Valinon was by far the most powerful player in the Raumreich, the only explanation of the ships sudden appearance meant one thing…Wormhole.

Bagwell’s jaw dropped as his ships sensors logged the Meier’s arrival in the system. His mind raced as he heard their communication, this was no raid no it was something that was much more, it was something that would ensure the survival of his home or perhaps spell its doom…what ever would come of this Yeltsin Star’s has suddenly become much more important system then it was even the day before.

“Copy that message and send it to FAFCCC immediately, prepare to record a message to the Valinor vessel” Bagwell stated and continued when his communication’s officer gave him the go ahead. “Research Vessel Meier this is Commodore Bagwell of the Grayson Naval Ship Ares, we acknowledge your message. However be aware that this is sovereign territory of Grayson and the Federal Systems, we request that you do not make any further incursion deeper into the system.”

His division and the Valinor ship were very "close" by the standards of modern naval standards, only a million kilometers and the sensor returns on the Valinor vessels were amazing. He looked at its profile, it was obviously not a warship, its lines were much to sleek to be considered that it looked to be more like a work of art, a thing of beauty. His ponderings were interrupted by the chatter of an impact printer receiving a priority message from FAFCCC. A midshipwoman brought it to him.

Priority AAAAA1
Eyes Only Lt. Commander Bagwell GSN

Priority Message

Commander,

Imitate Diplomatic procedures with Valinor vessel
They are neutral party, make them welcome
Additional forces en route to secure the termini

Secretary Yanakov



Bagwell checked the tactical display and noticed a veritable by GSN standards rushing towards the wormhole, at least twenty vessels albeit fifteen were LACs ....no the day was going to be very interesting indeed, he thought as he signaled to the Valinor vessel again,

" Meier you will forgive me because I am not familiar with first contact procedures in this unique circumstance, what assistance do you require?"

Sirius breathes a sigh of relief, "That sounds better at least. For a first few minutes I was worried."

"To say the least," says Smokemont. "I take it we will proceed with the contact plan now?"

Sirius nods after a moment's pause, "They seem open enough, and if not we have the Nu-space connection back to Alpha Centauri. Sometimes the Kriegsmarine is a very, very useful thing to have around."

Smokemont nods emphatically.

"Gene, give me a uni-directional beam connection to the lead the Ares destroyer," Sirius says as he watches the sensors.

"Done."

"Commodore Bagwell, we appreciate your courtesy. No offense intended, we require little assistance. I and the rest of the research team will be deploying a series of Sakai probes to study this end of the wormhole terminal and do indepth mapping of the characteristics of its event horizon. We will need to deploy two flights of three probes each to complete the survey, and I would also like to dispatch drones to collect the initial surveyors we sent through the wormhole earlier."

Sirius takes a breath before continuing, "There is one other matter. Our directives from both the Academy and Her Majesty's Government call for diplomatic protoccols to be followed in regards to this situation. I have on board Herr Craig Neilson, a member of Her Majesty's Ministry for Foreign Affairs diplomatic corps. He, Kodashi Saito, planetologist; Kylara Apogee, xenobiologist; Ibram Smokemont, anthropologist with a specialization toward linguistics; and myself are to form a delegation to open dialogue and cultural exchange with members of your government. Our party will use the Meier's in-system lander for travel. We understand if you need time to contact your government and if an escort for our vessel will be required. Do we need to clarify any points?" Sirius cuts the link.

"First wave of Sakai probes is ready for deployment, Sirius."

"Thanks,Gene."

"Also, Herr Neilson is requesting a link back to Alpha Centauri to send an update report to the Ministry. Should I setup a direct line?"

"Go ahead, Gene. I think it will take awhile for the locals to respond."

The AI's avatar nods. Sirius turns to the in-system astro map projection.

"My, my," Smokemont mummers, "someone's busy."

Sirius looks as twenty individual sensor signatures move toward an intercept point with the Ares and her companion vessel. Looked to be five warships--none above the size of a cruiser or frigate--and at least fifteen other signatures that appeared to have much in common with the LACs the Kriegsmarine had fielded before the Great Raumreich War.

"We'll I think it safe to assume they understand wormhole mechanics," Anita says.

"And are about as security conscious as the Kriegsmarine it seems," Sirius says as Anita steps up beside him.

He guides her away from the map, leaving Smokemont and Apogee to start to argue about what the locals call themselves and their culture.

"I want you to be carefully when and if we leave for the planet. I think what we're seeing is nothing more than first contact surprise and the ingrained response to try and reassert some sort of control, but I don't want to take any chances. Stick to the standard scanning initiatives, and if anything changes or you need to deviate contact me first. I'm not going to risk you, the Meier and everyone else chasing every little detail. The Academy can wait until everything is hammered out."

Anita nods, "And stay in contact from the ground as well. The in-system localized ansible can project an umbrella to cover the second planet. And I will keep the recovery drones out a bit longer to boost the network."

Sirius nods, "Let's hope it goes well."

Almost four hours had passed since he had last communicated with the Valinor vessel, besides confirming their request to launch any scientific probes they required to complete their mission. Bagwell looked over the latest dispatch to arrive from central command, within the next 48 hours no less then two dozen ships would be responsible for the security of the wormhole termini. The first of which had already arrived the light cruiser Solomon and a quartet of LACs had already arrived and taken over responsibility for security. However Bagwell was also given new orders, his Division along with two LACs that had already arrived would provide escort for the Meier their smaller in system lander. He was simply to baby sit his nation’s newest guest while they completed their mission.

“Meier I have just received my orders, my division is to provide your vessel with an escort for as long as you remain in system, It is currently 1435 by our internal clocks, If your would be so kind as to accept an invitation to supper at 1730 onboard the Ares it would be my pleasure to honor my ship with your company.”

"Reasonable all considered," Smokemont says when the reply regarding the escort comes back. "And dinner as well. If these people are in a panic, they're certainly adapting well."

"Thankfully," Sirius says. He looks up as the door to the bridge opens and Nielson and Kodashi step through. "Did you two hear about the invitation?"

"Yes," says Neilson. "We heard it when you pumped it through the observation deck. I will need to attend."

"And I personally feel that all the members of the contact team need to be present as well," Kodashi adds calmly, as the senior most Academy personnel present. His eyes lock with both Smokemont and Apogee who both nod their mutual assent.

"Anita, I will need you to stay behind and maintain our link back to Alpha Centauri. Also, I want you to go ahead and start deploying the Sakai probes and get the survey underway. Meanwhile, I'll send a message back to Bagwell and tell him we will be joining him."

Smokemont sighs, "Let us hope the cuisine is as good as these people's manners."

"It can't be any worse than the Vaku," says Apogee still intently studying the system layout.

"Or that vile paste the Ortagans seem to favor."

Sirius smiles as the contact team leaves the bridge slowly.

"Gene, bring up the link to the Ares again."

"Done. And the Sakai probes are ready as well.

"I take it you will not take offense at being left behind?"

"If I did, would it matter?

"Not really," Sirius says with a broad smile.

"Not entirely unexpected. Perhaps the bay will have a malfunction and vent the lot of you uncaring, unthinking, callous ivory tower intellectuals into space.

"Gene, if you did that every time you said that, I would have been dead years ago."

"Don't remind me, less you tempt me too much."

Sirius shakes his head and activates the comm.

"Commodore Bagwell, it would be an honor and a privelege to join you for dinner. Herr Neilson, the members of the contact team, and myself will be joining you. However, my second will have to remain behind with the Meier to begin the survey. On a note to that, we will start launching probes to complete mapping on the wormhole terminal in the next ten minutes. Don't want to cause any alarm."

Commander Bagwell stood in the crowded boat bay of the Ares, his ship was "small" by anyone's standards it massed 75,000 tons, Everything on his ship was economized for efficiency. It was a battle fought by every nation's navies, how much room could be given to boat bays, crew quarters, gyms, all of these luxuries came at a price for any ship smaller then a battle cruiser. Because the larger each of these were the less space that could be utilized for things of greater importance to a warship such as weapon's magazines, sidewall generators, and weapon mounts.

So there was not one foot of unused space in the boat bay, 2 pinnaces and a cutter took up the entire floor of the boat bay The Valinon pinnace would have to dock at one of the two external docking points outside the entrance of the boat bay. Their party would have to swim through the ten meter long docking tube and land in the boat bay. A seasoned naval man would accomplish this task effortlessly, however Bagwell doubted many in the Valinor scientific team could claim to be such. It would be entertaining to watch he mused.

Behind Bagwell stood his side party, his exec, his chief engineer and his Bosun, along with three marines as an honor guard. They all stood at attention in their green and grey dress uniforms, not a bad showing at all. And of course draped behind the group was the national colors of Grayson and the Commodore pennant denoted Bagwell’s rank.

Now he and his group awaited the arrival of their Valinor guests.

Sirius takes a deep breath as the docking tube extends, locks with the small lander's airlock, and then Gene's extension on the lander appears.

"Airlock is cycled and secured, Sirius. There is what appears to be a reception committee waiting on the other end."

"Thanks, Gene."

"Even if you don't pay me enough for all I do."

Sirius smirks, and takes another deep breath. Zero-gee, this should prove interesting for some. Smokemont and Neilson both have experience in such affairs--both being former Kriegsmarine. Kodashi would most likely do well, he has long rumored to have been an ex-Resolute resistance member from the Outer Dominion Wars. Still Sirius briefed both him and Apogee how to conduct themselves in the tube. But the abbreviated lesson can only do so muc.

"And now the real test," Sirius mummers as he swings back into the small passenger area. "Alright, the tube is locked down. Gene will be monitoring the lander for us while we are at dinner. And now, if you would step lively, we have Mr. Neilson's job in our hands."

A series of chuckles and a wane smile from Neilson rapidly subsides as Sirius opens the hatch. The expanse of the tube awaits the small Valinor delegation. Sirius swings out in the lead, followed by Neilson. Then comes Kodashi and Apogee, with Smokemont bringing up the rear. Sirius, Smokemont, and Neilson manage the tube with little intense effort. Kodashi does well, but his movements showing that it has been sometime since he has dealt extensively with zero-gee tubes. Apogee tries--as well as can be expected--receiving assistance from Smokemont often.

A few minutes later, the delegation crosses the caution lines at the Grayson side of the tube. And returns their feet to gravity. Sirius salutes Bagwell, Neilson draws himself up and makes a formal small bow, and the others assume appropriately former postures.

"Commodore Bagwell, permission to come aboard?"

"Permission Granted Mr. Sirius and welcome aboard the Ares" Bagwell said extending his hand to the Valinon man. "May I present my senior officers, my exec lieutenant Gorges and my chief engineer Lieutenant Emden" Bagwell said pointing to a tall red haired man and a short freckled man with black curly hair respectively "And my Bosun Tarrent Fell." he stated pointing to a barrel chested marine.

Clarice Rosewater walked slowly through the laboratories and test rooms of the Nova Technologies Syndicate research center in Falas City, capital of the Dominion of Archangel and former capital of the High Dominion of Falasmayon. With her is Vasily Malik, so recently arrived from his own side of the extensive Nova Tech research and development department, and a few other ne’er-do-wells from Nova Tech’s upper echelons. A harried looking man wearing a lab uniform popularized by Nova Tech’s Network Services and Access research division approaches the group.

“Frau Rosewater,” says the man, “it is a pleasure that you could come on such short notice.”

The man is Rinaldo Pazzi, the head of the NS&A research section. For eight years he has worked and slaved to establish a new series of products to gain ground back from Mangala Corp especially. And now, in conjunction with Malik’s project, it seems that Nova Tech is poised to move.

“Time is of the essence, Rinaldo. And the members of the Board, myself included, feel that we have a moment of opportunity to reassert ourselves in some of the markets we have taken losses in since the War of the Lion,” Rosewater says with a wry smile. “You have the final report on the implant and the skull phone systems?”

“Yes, Madam,” says Rinaldo. “Cranial implants have been tested successfully in ninety-four percent of all test subjects. Of the remaining six percent, five-point-three received and adapted to the implant fully on the second trial. The rest appear to be minute cases where neural incompatibilities make the long-term use of the implant a serious health hazard.”

“Can this incompatibility be detected?”

“Yes, usually through a normal neural scan that can be done by any physician.”

“Good. Do you have views from implant users?” Rosewater says as she and the rest enter a small conference room and one by one take their seats.

“Yes,” Rinaldo says, standing toward the head of the table. “I can show you them now actually. Bring up the file on neural views, Dwain,” Rinaldo says to the facility’s full AI.

”Right away, Supervisor.”

A few seconds later a holo-view through the eyes of an implant user appears before the assembled power of Nova Tech, it shows incredible detail along the edges of the user’s vision. Access points to local climate information, news updates, economic updates, personal files, a kind of corporate data base, and a link to a ship AI.

“This is a link we did for Pravati Interstellar’s CFO. It acts at 115% efficiently of the old external link-up, and this is one of the early test modes. At any time the implant is in the radius of the ansible network connection, the user can access any information necessary via the Pravati database as well as maintain instantaneous communication with his vessel. It also acts as a virtual memory on demand. With the skull phone application and the sub-vocal system it operates as a verbal and mental text communicator that allows for communication just as fast and easily accessible as the tel-phones and comp-pads many now use.”

“Are than any side effects to the phone uses?” queries one of the lawyers Rosewater drug along.

“Some users do manifest imagined symptoms, this particular subject complained of a ‘buzzing’ in his nasal passages when first using the phone system’s verbal side. The symptoms have all gone away within a few months after the implant was installed. We have isolated it as just a long-term adaptation process by the brain. The extent of the integration symptoms as we called them have been as short from a few weeks to as long as nine months.”

“No long term side effects though?”

“None.”

“That’s good news at least,” Rosewater says and nods to the lawyer. “Now how are we on long-term use or any interest.”

“We have it in gross lots, Madam,” Rinaldo says. “The Kriegsmarine and the Reichswehr are beating down our doors, so are many of the major shipping lines, and a host of other interests ranging from the Academy to the USIC.”

“Gregor, do we have an estimated contract profit margin yet?” Rosewater says, turning to one of the marketing specialists from the Board’s aide staff.

“At least 255 billion from the first two quarters alone. And that is only for government and institution contracts. It doesn’t include corporate interests or private interests.”

Rosewater smiles, “Mangala Corp won’t know what hit them. Especially with your project underway, Vasily.”

“Thank you,” Malik says with a nod.

“Do we have production schedules on ansible platforms yet?”

“The one at Yalta is established, we have ones starting construction in Archangel, Alpha Centauri, Vakutu, Pelledrine, Axis, and Erewohn. We also have plans to start construction in Sol and Gregor.”

“This doesn’t even conclude the new markets that are going to be forming in the Talbot Cluster.”

“Start a plan to construct a platform in the system on the other side of the new terminus. There is not point of not developing that market as fast as possible,” Rosewater says. “With that, ladies and gentlemen, we have all the pieces of the puzzle in place. We will announce all this formally in two months. By then the infrastructure to start offering implant installation and start accelerating platform construction will be fully in place and Mangala Corp will find itself already behind in the game. Let them have their damnable courier services. We will make them obsolete and reassert our monopoly on Valinor associated communications and seize back the comm market we’ve lost in Sol. No one can challenge us in the Raumreich, it’s time that extended outside the Oversector as well.”

“Now if you will all pardon me, I have passage booked to Alpha Centauri. There is a conference in Kelanis I must attend.”

Rosewater’s conferences on Pholus have become a thing of mystery. Many in Nova Tech wonder how the company made it through the lean times after the War of the Lion, it certainly wasn’t by cutting back spending. And many wondered just how much of a hold Rosewater had given to the mysterious and insidious Turin Combine to let Nova Tech keep its ever-expanding monopoly on FTL communications in the Raumreich and in a large part of the Valinor sphere of influence.


Clarice Rosewater is nervous, a feeling she does not entirely like. But the nature of her meeting with the oligarchy that controls the Turin Combine, the vast and powerful collective of Valinor banking and financial concerns, has changed. It was moved for starters to one of the small islands that dotted the vast oceans of Pholus, second world of Alpha Centauri. The island is known as Hannibal, and since the establishment of the United Banking Guild of Pholus it has been the stronghold of infamous Turin family. The Turin family has long controlled the banks of Pholus, and through this hegemony they have achieved dominance in the financial world of Valinon. But they remaining a shadowy name and power, dodging the titles of nobility and the halls of formal power in the Star Empire, favoring working quietly and outside the normal bounds of the government to achieve their aims. Yet none can easily dismiss the impact they have on the government, it was often spoke of that many in the Lords and the old Commons were in the pocket of the Turins. And it is doubtful that all that has evaporated simply because the Commons has shrunk and is now know as the Congress of the Dominions, or that the Lords has broken completely with their old debts simply because the United Guilds imploded.

No, Rosewater knows all to well that Turin power has not diminished. It has simply become even more hidden, even harder to detect. And she often wonders if it was wise to ally Nova Tech with them instead of taking more stable means of keeping Nova Tech solvent after the War of the Lion.

A thin woman dressed in a flowing dress that moves gracefully with each step escorts her through the halls of the Turin compound on Hannibal. The compound is vast, but largely hidden in the mountain that dominates the central core of Hannibal. But the décor of this simply hallway speaks of stored wealth, vast amounts of it, even if it is subtly expressed. The rug is of the highest quality, guarding the black and white marble underneath, the walls are covered in a deep black material, interspersed with a blood-red crimson. The only other features are lights, each worked with a fine pattern of murals depicting different events from Old Earth’s ancient mythologies. The woman leading her suddenly pulls back part of the cloth, revealing a mahogany door, which she opens.

“Herr Turin will see you,” this is the first time she has spoken and apparently will be the last as she moves to disappear back down the hallway. Rosewater takes a deep breath and enters the room.

It is a plain room, only a conference table that can seat twenty-four in high-backed chairs eats away at its space. Inside are three men and two women. A man with a gaunt, high-boned, and pale face sits at the head of the table. His face would not be recognizable to most, yet he is easily among the five most powerful people in the Star Empire, and certainly among the five richest. It is rumored that the Turin fortune has at long last eclipsed the Mironenko’s, and if it has that means only House Alderman itself can still claim to be greater in terms of sheer monetary assets. He is Marius Turin, ruling patriarch of the Turin family and the organizer and power behind the Turin Combine. The others are Krendler Cruger, representing the Cruger Imperial Bank; Marmion Ison, representing the Kelanis Financial Combine; Natalie Olbers of the Olbers Foundation; and finally Nikita Lear, of the Marius Tactical Solutions Group—the Turin Combine’s mercenary branch that was organized by the fiat and capital of Marius Turin.

“Please be seated, Frau Rosewater,” Turin says in his cool, cultured tones. His voice carries that slight metallic rasp that sets his tone apart from any other. “I trust your visit to the Dominion of Archangel went well?”

“It did, thank you,” Clarice says.

“Good, good. Now we are all curious to hear if our backing of Nova Technologies has bore fruit. Are your research divisions on schedule?”

“Perfectly, the two month stricture will be met easily. Mangala Corp will not know what hit them until they’re already flat on their feet.”

“So we have been told frequently,” Turin says. “However, we have concerns you’re your methods, Frau Rosewater.”

By that you mean you have concerns, Rosewater thinks quietly to herself. She knows full well whose will keeps the Turin Combine functioning.

“Such as?” she says politely.

“If they will truly bring Mangala Corp to heel,” Turin says very, very directly. A fire lights those black eyes, a fire Rosewater finds unnerving at every level of her being.

“Do you wish us to step up the time table?”

“No, Frau Rickover. That is not what I speak of at all. The members of the Combine feel that Mangala Corp is vulnerable now to two key factors. For starters, the Democratic Imperium’s concern over the recent Tyranid invasion of Mars is opening blind spots in their considerable internal defenses elsewhere. We believe this opportunity will allow a few select individuals to infiltrate Mangala Corp and finally realize how much they know of our plans, and what there own are in regards to their Nu-space services.”

Espionage, Rosewater thinks savagely, and most likely extreme sabotage.

“Do you wish Nova Tech to undertake these…efforts?” Rosewater says, distaste beginning to color the edge of her words.

“No, Frau Rosewater. We have our own operatives in mind, this is merely a courtesy,” Turin leans forward, scooping up his comp-pad in a long-fingered hand.

“You said two factors, what would the other one be?” Rosewater says before Turin can leave by some door concealed in the shadows.

Turin gives a frosty smile, “Why, Frau Rosewater, we find Mangala Corp’s success has been furthered a great deal by a single individual, one Juliet Rickover. If Mangala Corp is to be truly harmed, its more ingenious executives must be…scaled back. And this process must start somewhere, why not start at the top? Good evening, Frau Rosewater. Solita will see you and the rest of my guests out,” and with that he stands and moves to leave.

“Rickover has powerful allies within the Rolt Government, Herr Turin,” Rosewater says in strained tones. “And in the VIRU.”

Turin stops for a moment, hands and comp-pad clasped neatly behind his back.

“Frau Rosewater, allies do not count as much as they used to. And I assure you, Sir Whitmore, Lady Rolt, and their colleagues are not as infallible or as invulnerable as they believe. If it is necessary, they can be neutralized in regards to intervening in this matter.”

The woman who led Clarice to the conference room appears by some unseen call. She remains seated, hands grasped stiffly in her lap as the other members of the Turin Combine’s inner circle of power stand and begin to file out. A cold lump has found a home deep in her stomach. The whispers of the Turin’s employing old Nightwatch assassins, Scorpion Clan mercenaries, and the corporate warriors of the Marius Tactical Solutions Group run through her head. Marius Turin has been called many things, and now Clarice knows why so many settle for a few simple words. They echo through her mind as she is escorted out of the Turin enclave.

Shaitan

Mogul

Murderer

Demon

Criminal

As was his habit His Excellency Jean-Michael Dragonne King of Nouveaux Caledonia arose at 0600 local time and entered his day office and sat down to look through the pile of communique's and matters of state which had occumulatd through the night for his attention. Midway between the reports of less than expected returns from the new mines in the Caree Asteroid Belt and a final copy of his itenerary for the day, his Foreign Minister Stephen Natan blasted through the double doors to his office.

"Sir, I... your not going... its amazing... READ THIS!" he stammered clearly to excited for words.

"Stephen, I would have expectd you to be mor.." Dragonne stopped in mid sentece as his eyes fell upon the header code of the transmission. Alpha-Zulu-Charlie: A matter of immediate national import.

Priority Transmission
AZC18DD590
Originated- RMMS Fleur
Recieved- Nouveaux Caledonia Centre du Communications

A wormhole terminus of the Alpha Centauri Junction has been discovered in Yeltsin's Star. Repeat: A wormhole terminus has been discovered in Yeltsin's Star. Valinor registry exploration vessels and several warships have crossed the terminus and have been met by vessels of the Grayson Space Navy ad are moving to Grayon.

End Transmission

The King promptly spewed coffee all over his desk and papers.

"They've found what!" he exclaimed, wiping coffee from his chin.

"Exactly sir! A junction terminus! Here in the Cluster! And at Yeltsin's Star for that matter! replied Natan, clearly till as over taken as his ruler.

"MON DIEU! This is the single greatest event in the history of this entire region. Why the hell couldn't it have happened here! This will give the grayson's a huge leap on everyone else in the cluster especially nations outside the Federation! We have to move to get involved now. This cannot be allowed ot become a one star show! Assemble the ministers, I want them here and ready for a meeting in a half hour. I dont care if you have to throw them out of bed yourself! Then convene a special session of parliament both houses we're gonna have alot of curious peole out there." The king began making calls and assembling staff for one of the most important meeting of state in Nouveax Caledonia's history.

******
8 hours later a small task force leaves Caledonian orbit and powers full speed to Grayson. They will arrive in approximately 9 days, however the communique to the Caledonian Ambassador in Grayson arrives instantaneously.

"Thank you, Commodore," Sirius says, his expression denoting mutual respect for his Grayson military doppelganger. "Allow me to introduce my own party."

He turns first to a man dressed in a formal three-piece suit, the waistcoat, linen shirt, and great coat made in the typical fine standards of the imperial government. His pants are of a crisp cut and his boots are polished to a sheen that makes ones eyes ache.

"Herr Craig Neilson, of Her Majesty's Ministry for Foreign Affairs," Neilson offers a grave nod, his expression formal.

Sirius goes to the next man, drawn from the Old Earth Japanese extract common to the Outer Centauri region of the Star Empire--the former territory of the long-vanquished Dominion of Outer Centauri.

"Kodashi Saito, Planetologist of the Imperial Academy and our senior member," Kodashi bows deeply in the Dominionite fashion, his wide-necked shirt gaping a little to reveal a spiraling blue tail tatooed onto his neck that continues out of sight. A definitive mark of followers of the Dominion's old Taoist religion structure.

"My pleasure, Commodore," he says in flowing tones.

"Kylara Apogee, Academy xenobiologist," the apparent youngest member of the contact team smiles easily at the Graysons. Although her stance belays the ease, marking her as still slightly disoriented from her encounter with zero gravity, but she hides it fairly well. If the observers in question weren't experience spacers themselves.

"Finally, Ibram Smokemont, our anthropologist with a specialization toward linguistics."

Smokemont is a tall man, but his countenance is aged and he is obviously in that terminology the senior most of the group. He smiles and nods grandfatherly toward the Graysons, raising one long-fingered hand in a gesturing wave.

"Captain Markham does me a favor. It is quite obvious by this point I am merely here for the party. Unless you gentlemen intend to suddenly divest yourselves of the ability to speak English or Standard. You don't feel that coming on do you? I know sometimes it can just sneak up on someone. Just out of the blue you'll just go from English to Latin or Vaku perhaps?" Smokemont's tone is one of obvious friendly jest.

Bagwell chuckled at the old mans comments, however he thought he would surprise the old man, he hoped it would not give him a stroke.

“Ek'rah skabak erg Thrak'Vakutu maks Rag'nit” he stated with violence in his voice. It was the Vakutu war cry “I find understanding the language of a culture helps us understand them Mr. Smokemont. I found such knowledge could have prevented some of the tragic events of the past like the Battle of Cronos?” Bagwell replied solemnly using the Wickians term for that ill-fatted and bloody battle in which both fleets were mauled. However it was a battle that occurred almost forty year previous and Bagwell looked no older then twenty-five in a society without Prolong. “Would it surprise you at all to learn that I am a citizen of the Wickian Commonwealth as well as the Federated Systems of Talbott?” He waved a hand dismissively “Yes I know, Wickians are all seven feet tall, bald, tattooed, muscle bound neo-barbs, and I do not look the role, well you can thank my father for that. It’s a long story perhaps we can discuss it over dinner?” Bagwell asked motioning for the Valinor to follow him into the corridor as they made their way to the mess.

As the party neared the mess Bagwell continued to talk,

“The Ares is a small ship we mass only 75 k-tons, and our luxuries are at a minimum, but I have a steward who can work miracles…” he said opening the door to the small Officers Galley only big enough to fit one table set for ten people. Ten candles each a different color in a golden holder light the room. Each candle representing a different system of the Federation. Insents burned filling the room with a sweet smell, and a soft music played in the background, one of quiet acoustic guitars, piano, and pleasant woodwinds.

As each Grayson officer entered the mess they took off their dress tunics hanging then upon a hanger in the corner as well as their high brimmed service caps. Bagwell looked at Sirius saying,

“It is tradition when a Grayson officer dines with close friends and comrades that he does so at ease, to dine in full tunic is to imply a lack of …. Comradeship of tension between the officers, or that of when strict formality is required. I realized some services may find it unprofessional and do not feel bound by our own traditions. Technically I should dine more formally with your groups as we’ve just me, however I suppose this is my way of saying you are among friends here.” Bagwell told his guest waiting for them to follow suite or to sit and begin the meal.

Bagwell chuckled at the old mans comments, however he thought he would surprise the old man, he hoped it would not give him a stroke.

“Ek'rah skabak erg Thrak'Vakutu maks Rag'nit” he stated with violence in his voice. It was the Vakutu war cry “I find understanding the language of a culture helps us understand them Mr. Smokemont. I found such knowledge could have prevented some of the tragic events of the past like the Battle of Cronos?” Bagwell replied solemnly using the Wickians term for that ill-fatted and bloody battle in which both fleets were mauled. However it was a battle that occurred almost forty year previous and Bagwell looked no older then twenty-five in a society without Prolong. “Would it surprise you at all to learn that I am a citizen of the Wickian Commonwealth as well as the Federated Systems of Talbott?” He waved a hand dismissively “Yes I know, Wickians are all seven feet tall, bald, tattooed, muscle bound neo-barbs, and I do not look the role, well you can thank my father for that. It’s a long story perhaps we can discuss it over dinner?” Bagwell asked motioning for the Valinor to follow him into the corridor as they made their way to the mess.

As the party neared the mess Bagwell continued to talk,

“The Ares is a small ship we mass only 75 k-tons, and our luxuries are at a minimum, but I have a steward who can work miracles…” he said opening the door to the small Officers Galley only big enough to fit one table set for ten people. Ten candles each a different color in a golden holder light the room. Each candle representing a different system of the Federation. Insents burned filling the room with a sweet smell, and a soft music played in the background, one of quiet acoustic guitars, piano, and pleasant woodwinds.

As each Grayson officer entered the mess they took off their dress tunics hanging then upon a hanger in the corner as well as their high brimmed service caps. Bagwell looked at Sirius saying,

“It is tradition when a Grayson officer dines with close friends and comrades that he does so at ease, to dine in full tunic is to imply a lack of …. Comradeship of tension between the officers, or that of when strict formality is required. I realized some services may find it unprofessional and do not feel bound by our own traditions. Technically I should dine more formally with your groups as we’ve just me, however I suppose this is my way of saying you are among friends here.” Bagwell told his guests waiting for them to sit and begin the meal.

"Formalities are over-rated," says Markham quickly, looking rapidly at Neilson with a slight glare. "And I thank God," he says removing his own dress tunic, "that thing is insufferable!"

A pair of chuckles comes from Smokemont and Kodashi, who both remove their relatively unadorned jackets bearing the Academy crest. Apogee smiles, already by the standard of Valinor society casually dressed, and simply takes her seat. Neilson looks as if he is desperately fighting the urge to roll his eyes at Sirius, and the look of an old, belligerent officer tied to the formality of the Kriegsmarine is readily visible. Although in the end he removes his great coat and rolls up the sleeves of his tunic, setting the cuff links delicately on the table. The Valinor party takes it seats along with the Graysons.

"A former citizen of the Commonwealth? And you speak Vaku," Smokemont says index figure taping his temple. "Yes, you are undoubtably an interesting man, Commodore Bagwell. Care to entertain an old scholar a bit more?"

Apogee leans toward Gorges, "An interesting combination of music you have here. The use of acoustic guitars is...interesting..something I have never heard before. I take it that it is something of a native tradition?"

Saito leans toward Apogee's conversation, as Sirius and Neilson steer themselves more toward Smokemont and Bagwell.

Lieutenant Gorges answered Apogee question first.

"I understand that it is derived from something that used to be called "Country-Western" on old Earth. The lyrics used to debate life itself, and the acoustic guitar helps the music flow, sometimes I think the song loses something when we add superfluous things."

While his exec fielded his question Bagwell answered the one addressed to him.
"I still consider myself a citizen of the Commonwealth just as much as I consider myself a son of Grayson." He told Smokemont with pride in his voice that was unmistakably WIckian. He paused before continuing. "There is a reason I wear a naval uniform, and I suspect it is the same of every officer in any navy, and that is to protect the innocent. You see I was not born a WIckian which would explain my lack of their...unique genetic traits. I was adopted as the unborn son of a mother who died on a freighter murdered by pirates, by an officer of the CN destroyer that discovered the wreck. I was raised on Thetis and commissioned in their navy fifty-two years ago. By knowledge of the Vaku language is limited I picked it up out of my admiration for their bravery in the Battle of Cronos, I served as a Destroyer commander under Admiral Covington. After the battle I was given orders to escort a small convoy of refugee ships to Grayson, now my family lives here safe from the reach of the Ortagans" the last word came out with venom. “So there is my life story in a nut shell Mr. Smokemont” he told the older man with a smile and in a lighter tone livening the mood.

Smokemont arches an eyebrow, "Yes, interesting to say the least, Commodore. Interesting indeed."

Neilson clears his throat, "But perhaps you could tell us more of this Federation, Commodore? I know many in New Koln are already starting to raise questions about it. Needless to say it's suddenly become a rather...pressing issue to the Star Empire."

"Yes the Federation, do not let the name fool you my friend, its more of a confederation at best." Bagwell stated as he grabbed a simple wooden box form the table, laid in it were long thick cigars and shorter cigarettes, even fine cut tobacco for the pipes that lay near the box or to chew on. He drew out a rather large cigar, biting its end off with his teeth, twirling it between his fingers, he offered the box to his guest and his own officers present. His exec declined however the engineer took up a pipe, and the marine likewise chose a cigar.

Bagwell took several pulls from his cigar before he continued,

"There are ten systems who are members of the Federation there are also a score of territories not yet admitted as full members. We have a Congress though it lacks any real power, really its been established to protect the economical growth of some of the larger systems such as Rembrandt and Split. There is a movement to throw out the Articles of Confederation and draft a constitution that would make us into a more cohesive entity, as of yet many systems feel no need for such an act." He puffed happily on his cigar then continued, "I imagine a Federation TF will be arriving in the system soon, Yeltsin Star has just become of the utmost strategic importance to the Federation, and I hope will be a catalyst to propel us to draft a constitution."

"We have the potential to be a great power, for decades the Cluster's been ignored by the Raumreich at large except for the odd freighter, that will change soon no doubt." Bagwell said grinning.

"The Cluster's isolation was desired by a great many of the factions that came here though," Neilson adds in a questioning tone. "Surely that can be expected to come into play in any future dealings with a more--accessible Cluster?"

"I am sure the citizens of the Cluster can work it out," Smokemont interrupts Neilson's musings. "Other civilizations and societies have, it just remains to be seen how the Cluster will work it out and what changes it will lead to. And I am sure Commodore Bagwell and the rest of the Graysons may wish that the terminal had found another star system to insert itself in before all this is over."

Smokemont shifts his eyes back to Bagwell, "Ten worlds, you say, Commodore? That certainly explains the candles. Or at least I would hope it does, otherwise your sense of asthethics is a bit unusually," Smokemont's tone is once again one of jest. Markham seems to be inwardly smiling at Smokemont's skillfull silencing of the ambassador.

Bagwell winced inwardly at Neilson's comment innocent as it was. Isolation implied backward, weak even, and it was true when compared to the powers of the inner Marches of the Raumreich that was true enough. Yet, why would the Valinor want to keep the cluster weak, surely the great Lion had nothing to fear from a unified cluster, allies they would be assuredly. Smokemont comments interested him also it seemed that it was not just that cluster who was divvied politically. Before he could answer his exec answered the diplomat,

"I do not see how a decentralized Cluster would be preferable to any of our allies Mr. Neilson, already Mesa and its puppet Monica have preyed our space lanes and raided the Federated Territories! To remain status quo invites such a pattern to continue to fester." Lieutenant Gorges said with tartness.

"Ho easy there exec" Bagwell laughed. "We all hate those slaving corporate bastards for the swine they are, I do not think our friend meant any insult by his comment since he like the rest of those in the inner marches hardly hear word of our incidents with our neighbors in the Cluster, or their cost..." His steward filled his glass with a wine as dark as obsidian, and filled the glasses of those seated at the table.

"Shall I bring out the Meal sir?" he inquired.

"You may Vincent and thank you." Bagwell said as he looked upon Smokemont. "Ten systems are represented in the Congress, each represented in a candle here. All told more then thirty systems are members or protectorates of the Federation. Grayson is one of four provincial capitals and the Federal capital is Rembrandt. As for our sense of aesthetics you should see how my son dresses, I would think him color blind if I didn’t know better." He passed for a moment. "I think its time we eat."

The platters of food were brought out and placed in the center of the table, once the dinner commenced they would be passed around each dinner taking what ever portion they wanted. From deviled eggs, to steaks, red potatoes in a butter sauce, and hearty grain breads it was the best meal the galley in the Ares could provide.

Bagwell nodded to his junior officer present Lieutenant Emden and the young officer rose and lifted his wine glass.

“"Ladies and Gentlemen," he annoyed in the slow paced Grayson drawl, putting more emphasize on the former then the later, "I give you Grayson, the Keys, the Sword, and the Tester!" He quoted the Grayson Loyalty pledge. As the Grayson officers repeated the pledge.

Bagwell looked toward his Valinor guest inviting them to their own toast before they dug in to the food.

"To Her Majesty, Empress Friedelinde Alderman I, may her reign be long and just. And to the Age of the Third Empire, long may it last," Neilson adds.

"To the Academy, and to knowledge," Sirius adds to Neilson's toast.

"Ah, to the Academy," Saito says.

"Yes," Smokemont adds, "to the Academy. And to the pretentious old bat Prokhor Zakharov, long may he devel over the arcane bits in his quest for the Theory of Everything!"

The Valinor raise their glasses, then they all take a draught from their wine.

"So," Smokemont says, fork already in hand, "the Federation's system seems to be an interesting one. Yet its structure must prove, discouraging in some regards. However, I do hope our unexpected presence will not cause too much centralization. I find that there must be a healthy balance between the two. Too little centralization could lead to the disfunction that allowed the Boroglian Ascendancy's Aristocras to deliver their nations to the Verniian Imperium. Too much can lead to a situation like that of the Hegemony. Something I am sure no nation wants to follow the example of."

"Your points are valid sir certainly but it seems that you've picked two extremes of both ends of the spectrum. A republican government of the people can be strong centrally with a powerful executive but still act justly. It’s a system of checks and balances that will prove vital, it would make sure no branch of the government would become dominate over the other." Bagwell stated.

"There are some nations in the cluster that do not share our federalist views shall I say, You see beyond the fringe of the Federation there is other powers in the cluster... one of these is the Corporate sector of Mesa. The government is not of the people but rather the ruling elite of the company. Their population is small, but that is because they use genetic slavery to bread workers whose station is to low in the company, and they also sell these slaves abroad, especially to the Republic of Monica. Their Ideological differences clash with our own and we have fought several skirmishes over the years. A centralized, powerful political entity in the Cluster could put a stop or at least contain their expansion.”

"True," Smokemont says.

"And it may be better if the Cluster can resolve its own problems," Sirius says, taking a pause from his meal. "Many in the Academy have feared contact with the Star Empire through additional wormhole terminals would irreparable damage previously independent cultures. And I think this position has grown into the position of a large portion of the Rolt Government as well."

"It has," Neilson says his tone bland. "I do assure you though, Commodore Bagwell, Her Majesty and the Government have no love of genetic slavers or their supporters. Rest assured the Star Empire is not completely ignorant of the actions of the Mesan conglomerate, or its various allies. And although some of the others in the Inner Marches may be willing to turn a blind eye to this state of affairs," Neilson obviously stabs at the Ortagan Hegemony with its long history of exploiting races and peoples within its vast Great March realm, "we are not one to do so. I have no doubt that in time the Star Empire will make this position known to some of the Federation's more immediate neighbors."

Bagwell raises his glass,

"A toast then, to the future cooperation and friendship between our two nations!" Bagwell says happily.

OOC: So time to wrap up this dinner eh?

"Long may it endure!" Smokemont says after his own glass is refilled.

"Hear, hear!" Sirius adds.

Apogee, Kodashi, and Neilson nod their assent and raise their own glasses, drinking to the founding of a new relationship between the Star Empire and the Grayson government.

Neilson sets his glass down with care, "I do hate to press matters, Commodore, but I wonder if it would be possible to travel to the capital of your nation? Her Majesty wishes to begin formal relations with the systems of the Federation in earnest as quickly as possible."

OOC: Indeed.

Bagwell consider the question.

"Of course, the Ares must remain as an escort to the Meier while she is in system but it would be my pleasure to detail a pinnace to bring you to Austin City if you wish it can be arranged as soon as this dinner is over?"

OOC: Perhaps we should just warp on ahead to the landing in Austin city eh?

IC: The Pinnace neared the planet Grayson, much of the orbital infrastructure of the planet became visible to the naked eye. It neared the nearest complete habitat. It rotated slowly about its central axis, but it obviously boasted internal grav generators, for the spin was far too slow to produce anything like a useful gravity. In fact, there was something peculiar about that leisurely, almost trickling movement, something not consistent with a normal orbital habitat.

The structure was spinning on its axis exactly once per local planetary day, which seemed very odd, and it glittered like a huge, faceted gem as Yeltsin's light bounced off unusually vast stretches of transparent hull. The designers had used something like old-fashioned Venetian blinds, not the self-polarizing anti-rad armorplast more modern nations was used to; now the "blinds" were half-open on the nearer side of the dome as it rotated its way towards "evening,".

It wasn't an orbital habitat after all. Or, rather, it wasn't a habitat for people. A herd of cattle graze across a knee-high meadow on what had to be one of the most expensive "farms" in the explored galaxy, Grayson’s poisonous atmosphere did not allow for edible food or live stock to be raised on the planet, instead it all had to be produced from orbit, explaining the extensive concentration of satellites in its orbit.

Grayson's land surface was the life-breathing green of chlorophyll, with very few patches of desert, but most of it was a rich, blue-toned green, darker than anything most spacers would be used to seeing. Lighter patches, with suspiciously neat and regular boundaries, broke the darkness up, but the lighter areas were centered on what were obviously cities and towns, and all of those habitations were well inland. Grayson's seas were a deep and sparkling blue, painfully similar of Old Earth, yet there were no cities along those bright, white beaches, for unlike Old Earth the sea did not bring life on Grayson but only death.

Grayson was a lovely planet. Its colors had a rich, jewel-like tone rare even among life-bearing worlds, and despite its thirteen and a half light-minute orbital radius, its brilliant star and minimal axial tilt gave it surface temperatures and weather patterns any resort planet might envy. But beautiful as it was, Grayson had never been intended as a home for man. It was considerably smaller than Old Earth, yet its mass was almost Earth Standard, for it was rich in heavy elements. Dangerously rich. So rich its plant life fixed arsenic and cadmium, mercury and lead, and passed those same elements on to the herbivores who ate it. So rich its seas weren't merely "salt" but a brew of naturally occurring toxins that made merely swimming in them potentially lethal. No wonder Grayson's people lived inland, and the unremitting struggle they must face to "decontaminate" the soil that supported those lighter green patches of terrestrial food crops.

The Grayson’s world was a dangerous one, one that killed those unprepared, but asked any of them, they would not choose to live anywhere else, it was their Home

Midshipwomen Pavlic who was the pilot of the small pinnace decided to personally tell their Valinor guest that the trip to Austin City was almost complete, and to prepare to enter atmosphere. It was normally a task that could be easily accomplished over the intercom but it wasn’t every day a midshipwomen was asked to be a taxi for a Valinor.

She saw Neilson sitting in his "seat" which was a misnomer as the pinnace was a military vehicle first and a shuttle second. His seat was bolted to the crafts side and none to comfortable. There were thirty such seats, however his was the only one with a cushion added on, after all he was a VIP. Pavlic herself was a recipient of third generation Prolong so while she was 22 t-years old here body looked like a twelve year olds. Though she heard that the Valinor live to be almost 350 years old, that was about the age she herself would live to she just wished the prolong did not stop her aging process at such an...Awkward period of development.

"Excuse me sir? We are about to enter the atmosphere and are on final approach to Austin city, ETA is fifteen minutes." She told the diplomat.

OOC: this is my one OOC comment for the thread, but my god this reeks of harrington! there... had to get that out of my system.

IC: "...and there you have it Charles. You are to make sure that the Valinor know that there are other interests in the Cluster aside from Grayson, and those wanting a stongly unified Federation. I've also attached a copy of a message I've drafted to the Valinor emissary, that I want you to make sure he sees rewasonably soon. I leave it in your hands how best to proceed in this matter. Good Luck my friend."

The blue letters indicating "transmission over" flashed on the screen, and Charles Soleil DeGaulle, His majesty's royal ambassador to The Protectorate of Grayson sat back in his chair and wished for the 1000th time, that his nation had an FTL comm unit that could send more than just packages of information.

"God, I'd give my left hand for live communication!" he thought. Unfortunately the Kindom's communication equipment, although still amongst the best in the Cluster didnt have the data transmission volumes required to keep a live comms channel open across interstellar distances. After a few more moments of thought, he punched up a priority link, and sent a message. He then downloaded a copy of the Kings message to his reader, and went about clearing his schedule for the day.

Priority Diplomatic Communique:
Ambassadeur DeGaulle

As you may know His Majesty's government is well aware of the recent development in relation to the Valinor and the discovery of the wormhole terminus. He feels that in order to facilitate the familiarization of the our guests with the citizens of The Cluster, it is importnat thet communication channels be opened with numerous governments and organizations. Therefore as an affiliate member of the Federation we request permission to send a representative to join the delgation welcoming these guests to our provincial capital. Thank you.

(If you you accept it then just say that a representative will be joining you all at the landing pad)

The pinnace deactivated its wedge as it enter the atmosphere above Austin city, it soared through the planets atmosphere a ball of fire, whose wraith was abated by the crafts heat shield. Austin City like any of Grayson's major cities was well in land from any coast and it lacked the tendency of most modern cities in that it grew out rather then upward. Only recently had efficient enough counter-grav developed that allowed building higher then 200 stories to be erected. Roughly in the center of the city on a non-descript landing pad the pinnace settled.

The city didn’t even notice the craft's landing and the sounds and bustle of air and ground cars would have greeted the Valinor diplomat's ears when he exited the craft.

On the platform waited four people. A tall, skinny and quite stunning woman, who happened to be the under-secretary of state, and to her left was Captain (SG) Anders the liaison with between the Navy and the state department, and to her right was Maruis Van Dort the representative from the capital world of the Federation called Rembrandt. And of course the other individual was the representative from Nouveaux Caledonia.

The more important you are, the less you have to do.

That's the way it certainly seemed at the moment to Emperor Alexis Calimar, ruler of Vernii and ten billion subjects. He was currently lounging next to a large and crystal clear pool on the patio of his villa, which overlooked a white beach below from a bluff. His villa wasn't alone on the island, Isla de la Perla, or "Island of Pearl", most of his close friends and Cabinet officials maintained their own residences on the island. He took a sip of a sweet wine from his glass, an expensive import from Erewohn, and then looked over at his majordomo as the man approached. The servant bowed and announced, "Your Minister of State, Grand Duke Brydges is here to see you Sire."

"Ah, good. Send him out."

The Grand Duke walked out onto the patio, led by an Imperial Guardsman who maintained a respectable but protective distance until dismissed by Alexis. "So, Alfred, what brings you to see me today?"

"Do you remember that report I gave you about the Valinor being up to something in Alpha-Centauri, something that they were being awfully secretive about?"

"Yes, how could I forget? Since when have Valinor secrets ever been positive?"

"Well, ONI has finally learned what they're up to. They discovered another wormhole terminii, this time it leads to an obscure region of the Raumreich, "south" of Ortagan territory. It's populated as well, at least five systems, probably more."

"Oh dear. And right now the Valinor have undisputed access to that new market, and the ability to influence them without any competition. We can't have that."

"I'm glad you see it what way, Your Majesty. If you'll allow me, I'll organize a bit of competition for their dominance of this new region. If they fuss about it, we can remind them that the essence of capitalism is initiative and competition, and we could accuse them of trying to shortchange the natives by now allowing them access to potentially friendlier or more profitable markets."

"Permission granted, just don't involve us in another war. The Boroglians were hard enough for us to absorb, I'd rather not risk another one."

"Don't worry, Your Majesty, I'll see to everything."
****
"Geneva is now docked. Hoplite, you are clear to begin docking procedure."

The destroyers white hull was illuminated by Vernii's primary, but a shadow fell across it as it moved through the gaping cargo hatches into the specially modified freighter's cavernous and pitch black void that was it it's main cargo hold. Tugs guided it into place next to the Geneva, a heavy cruiser, and docking clamps locked the small warship into place. A zero-gee access tube extended from the ceiling of the hold to the destroyer, and docking was complete. Behind it, another small destroyer entered the hold...

The convoy consisted of five freighters, although one was carrying warships inside of it, four destroyers, and a light cruiser. They were bound for Erewohn, and then from there a dash across Ortagan territory to the Talbott Cluster. The escort would have normally seemed heavy, but there were unconfirmed reports of Vaku warships prowling the edges of Verniian and Ortagan territory, and even if those proved to be false, the fact that they were making an unauthorized voyage across Ortagan space was cause enough for the heavy escort.

The normal freighters finished loading their cargo of gifts and products, and the convoy broke orbit from the GSFL transfer yard. They brought up their impeller drives and entered the transit queue for the Gregor-Erewohn wormhole.

If there was one thing the RGF could be counted on to do, it was to show up when not wanted.

And as if to display the point beyond any reasonable doubt, the cruiser RGSV Vegatables, testing out its new sensors arrays, gigantic spindly affairs which cover several square kilometers out front of the spherical cruiser, designed to detect what but wormholes, discovers what the old Star Navy had tried to keep under wraps.

"Hey, look at this!"
"First time out, that's a sign of good luck, you know."

Sure enough, there on the edge of Ortagan space was what appeared to be a fresh wormhole mouth. The sensors arrays record every little observable detail, all of which are transmitted via the Sub-etha net to the Neu Wirlde system, the obscure and seldom-visited (by foreign travelers) home system of da robots.

But thanks to this curiosity, the cruiser crew sees little reason to beat it, or to transmit its findings to, say, anyone else. Therefore, it would probably be smart to quickly ensure that valuable trade information is not scattered around to anyone who wants it.

OCC: I don't know quite how to jump in here, so I decided to do it the usual way; navigational mistake. I mean, if you look at it thats why I ended up involved in the whole RPing circle, more or less.

OOC: That works, LRR, that works.

Neilson steps out of the pinnance, seemingly unaffected by its spartan nature. The edges of his person seem blurred, just vaguely out of focus, and on his belt, almost obscured by his waistcoat and his great coat are two small devices--one spherical and silver, the other an assembly of black and silver squares. Neilson is wearing a Flickinger field, an outgrowth of the Reichswehr's danger suits, and an unobtrusive way to protect the citizens of Valinon from harsher environments. The other device is a simple oxygen-recycler, designed to purify the air within Neilson's small Flickinger "bubble."

Neilson turns to the young midshipwoman who had been his guardian aboard the pinnance, "My thanks for such a smooth and uneventful transit, Ms. Midshipwoman. I assure you it was most appreciated."

With that he turns to face the Graysons, the Rembrandter, and the formally dressed delegate with them.

"Ladies, Gentlemen, I bring you greetings and best wishes from Her Majesty, Her Majesty's Government, and the Twin Stars of Valinon. I am Craig Neilson, of Her Majesty's Ministry for Foreign Affairs. And I must say the hospitality of the reception you sent to meet the Meier at the wormhole space was commendable, I could have had no better within the Star Empire itself."

Observations of the wormhole mouth continue at a casual but focused pace. Soon, the cruiser, designated TYPE R GRAVIMETRIC MONITOR Vegetables by the great Neu Wirlde fleet yards, gigantic and fairly ornate facilities which few have had the privelage to see, is in a lazy orbit around the Wormhole mouth.

A small, circular probe trailing an ultra-thin cable is shot out of a specially-designed railgun and into the wormhole mouth. The intent of this is to get a look at the environs of the other mouth. Equipped with what are said to be the best star charts around, the ship's astronomers will, once the probe comes out on the other wormhole mouth, plot its position by observing stars, distant galaxies, and other landmarks.

So, after moments of blindingly fast travel through the little understood tube through space-time, the probe emerges, and immediately flicks its sensors on. Infra-red, radio, and optical devices all take stock of the probe's surroundings, and its findings are transmitted back to the cruiser. The AI and its subordinate astronomers match light intensities and known star positions, and after a few minutes of lightening fast calculation, a location is stuck into the newest chart of the area.

"Shall we proceed through?" asks the helmsman.
"Might as well."
"Retracting Gravi-meter whiskers. All systems read inside safety levels."

"It is a pleasure to meet you Herr Neilson, and welcome to Austin City. My name is Benita Roxana and I’m the under-secretary of state for the Protectorate of Grayson." She said giving him a respectful bow, and then introduced the rest of the party before continuing.

"Your "suit" intrigues me, much more an elaborate system then what I am used to certainly" Van Dort stated envious of the Valinor man. The Rembrandter who had what was essentially an air filter over his nose and mouth.

"Perhaps we should go inside and begin our talks then?" Benita asked ushering them indoors.

Inside there was a long rectangular table with enough seats for the delegates, a glass of water near each and computer terminals built into the table that could feed directly into a projector that would present the images on the nearby wall. Displayed on it currently was a map of the Cluster at its northern edge was displayed the Southern March recently occupied by the Ortagan Hegemony.

Roxana cleared her throat before continuing,

“Obviously I believe we should start with the event that has brought us all together here today and that is the wormhole. This will be of course a boon for the economy of all the systems of the cluster ushering in an era of un-before seen progress for the nations of the cluster, no one can deny that.” She paused before continuing. “Another thing that should be made clear is that the Yeltsin Star terminus is sovereign territory of the Protectorate of Grayson and by extension the sovereign territory of the Federation of Allied Systems.” She stated calmly awaiting the Valinor delegates response.

"I wish the matter were that simply, Frau Roxana," Neilson says in an equally calm tone. "However, the wormhole terminus is not such a clear cut form. The terminus connects directly to the Alpha Centauri--the Vaterland of the Valinor--and with that entails a certain degree of risk. Before the War of the Lion the Star Empire allowed a terminus that connected directly to Alpha Centauri to be held by a nation that had made clear it was less than...open to the wisdom of imperial policy. This is not something the Star Empire will ever allow to be repeated."

"Since the War of the Lion Her Majesty and Her Majesty's Government have adopted a simple policy in regards to wormhole terminii that directly connect to any territory that flies the flag of the Empire and the Crown. The first is the territory will be a mandate zone under the direct administration of the Star Empire--regardless of who controls the system. The second is that the wormhole is jointly held, with Valinor interests given certain gaurantees and junction duties also being respected at the Star Empire's end of the terminus at the very least."

"Those are the only two acceptable outcomes from the perspective of the Star Empire. Unfortunately, the Star Empire cannot allow its security to hinge on the will of another government, however benevolent it may seem."

Anders seemed to wince at the Valinor delegates words. Option one was a no go, the Federation would be forced to protest it and no one wanted to piss off the Star Empire.

"Surely the Valinor do not view the Federation as having anything but good intentions?" Van Dort asked of the Valinor man.

"Marius, I think that our guest realizes we are not the People's Republic, but once burned, twice wary I suppose." Benita stated "Grayson would be amiable to option two Herr Neilson, the termini will remain Grayson territory, yet joint military occupation will be accepted. We'd also grant Valinor shipping a 10% discount on tariffs on this side, and of course we would respect your shipping laws in AC."

Neilson for a moment looks utterly sincere, "Herr Van Dort the Star Empire believes the Federation has nothing but good intentions, but I wish to point out something. At one time the Grand Duchy of New Ortaga and the Ortagan people had nothing but good intention, and now we all know how the Ortagan Hegemony exists. Paranoia and the unforeseen twists of the future can change a people's outlook radically. Her Majesty twisted the Ortagan government's arm severely and made very serious promises of what the Star Empire's actions would be if the Hegemony did not turn over control of their junctions that connected with our territory."

He continues, "We even took steps to do the same to the Falas and the Vaku. True they were nowhere near as blunt terms, but the Star Empire is alot more cautious regarding the wormholes than we have been previously. It is not because of any ill-will on our part toward the Federation, but rather that we wish to protect ourselves from any future repercussions and to prevent other generations from having to curse our own lack of foresight. You will have to forgive us, but history and fate are both unkind and fickle mistresses."

"The matter of joint military occupation will no doubt be acceptable. The Star Empire and the Greater Empire of Vakutu worked out a similar arrangement between themselves regarding the Alpha Centauri/Vakutu terminal. The rest of the terms I will have to forward back to Imperial Center to be put before Her Majesty and Prime Minister Lady Rolt-Adonis. I do not have the authority of a full ambassador, but I was the nearest deputy that could be sent to Yeltsin on such short notice. If you will allow me a half-hour to confer with my government."

"Take as long as you need Herr Neilson" Benita chuckled to herself, such marvelous communication that allowed the delegate to communicate with a planet half way around the galaxy in only thirty minutes.

the Vegetables emerges on the other side of the wormhole, and begins to take more observations, once its massive sensors array is unfolded. The crew and AI are somewhat surprised, given the wormhole's proximity to what are populated systems on the ship's charts, that it is not bustling with activity.

After getting tired with the wormhole, the cruiser folds up its sensors arrays and hyperspaces off, headed for more observing and recording, but not before leaving a beacon at the mouth, one transmitting the status of the wormhole (lest it collapse or evaporate) back to the Neu Wirlde.

A class F2 furnace sat at the heart of the system, burning with a bright blue intensity. The system itself currently had no name on the Gregor charts, just a classification number, "O-14". The "O" stood for Ortagan, and it was why only the convoy's light cruiser, IVN Concorde probed cautiously into its midst. The rest of the convoy lurked in hyper, waiting for the cruiser to finish its investigation and continue on their way.

Ambassador DeGaulle, remained relatively silent during the exchange, except for the initial greetings and introductions, as he listened and tried to form an opinion of these new and powerful Valinor. He silently breathed a sigh of relief as he listened to the unwavering terms of Valinor ownership of the wormhole terminus. It was going to be bad enough with the massive amount of money the Grayson's would be raking in from the increase in their orbital infrastructure without their being able to charge transit fees for the terminus.

"Well Herr Neilson, speaking for both myself and my nation. I am glad that the Empire insists on maintaining a handle on the terminus. I am not sure that any entity of the Cluster, even the entirety of the Federation, would be capable of ensuring its safety from raider or.... other parties, with out your aid." said Charles.

"Also," he continued taking out a small datacard from his papers, "I wonder if you would be so kind as to transmit this message back to Alpha Centauri along with your own correspondence. It contains a message from my sovereign, the King of Nouveaux Caledonia. He instructed me to send a copy to your government if possible and also to play it for you, if it was agreeable. May I?"

Ortagan borders are not so well defined on LRR charts, which, although almost perfect for RGF purposes, like astronomy and simple navigation, have always been somewhat lacking when it comes to defining political boundaries.

So, the Vegetables was operating in an area that its charts defined as 'Raumreich borderlands.' Such lack of precision in more real affairs, as opposed to the scientific and exploratory interests of LRR, has got the fleet and its assets in trouble before, mostly with countries who do not take kindly to relatively large and powerful ships blithely trapsing about in or around their borders.

It is very likely, then, that some kind of Valinon...er...thing has detected the Vegetables itself or will detect the beacon it left, something who's business is to let other ships know that its there.

Back in dock on one of the RGF's larger stations, conveniently located to keep people guessing as to the location of the Neu Wirlde, the captain of the Vegetables reviews the mission log with the AI.

"So, this is where we found the wormhole, is it? We should probably alert the Valinon and Ortagan navies about it, since the two mouths appear to be close to Ortagan space and Alpha Centauri."

Within hours, messages are sent to these two respective parties.

A class F2 furnace sat at the heart of the system, burning with a bright blue intensity. The system itself currently had no name on the Gregor charts, just a classification number, "O-14". The "O" stood for Ortagan, and it was why only the convoy's light cruiser, IVN Concorde probed cautiously into its midst. The rest of the convoy lurked in hyper, waiting for the cruiser to finish its investigation and continue on their way.

First Fang Akhjer nar Val steps out onto the bridge of his command, the heavy destroyer VIS Frawqirg. His slit pupils sweep the crew, each working with rigid precision at their duty stations. His Hyilghar--Kurthag
nar Val--approaches, each step measured.

"Krajksh nai varkish h'hassrai?" Akhjer says as Kurthag crosses his hand, claws extended, over his heart.

"Vrag'chath, we have detected a Verniian light cruiser. It exited hyperspace in the outer system seven minutes ago. Our com/con has confirmed it is Verniian."

"Have they detected us?"

"No, Vrag'chath. Our proximity to the star is apparently masking us from their sensors."

"Only one ship?"

"Yes, First Fang."

"The message from the Kalahn said there would be more. These Verniians are being extremely cautious. And their actions are drawing the attention of the Great Lion."

"Shall I open a channel four you, Vrag'chath?"

"Yes, I have my duty to fulfill."

Kurthag turns to the comm officer, "Prepare a channel for the First Fang at once!"

"Yes, Honored Hyilghar!"

Akhjer also turns to the comm officer, "Also contact the com/con. They are to activate their transponder when we do. I will not risk the Verniians thinking we are trying to conceal ships from them."

"It will be done, First."

Akhjer nods, then takes a deep breath. The Terrans tongue is not difficult, but he knows the Verniian language is subtly different from what the Valinor favor. It is less...formal...less distinguished.

"Begin transmission."

"Verniian cruiser, this is First Fang Akhjer nar Val of the VIS Frawqirg. We are aware of your presence in this system, and it is of vital importance that I speak to the most senior officer in your command group at once. I mean you no harm, and I have vital information that can assist you in your travels in the Ortagan space. Also under my command is the com/con 344-Har. Once again it is vitally important I speak with the senior most commander of your fleet group."

Ambassador DeGaulle, remained relatively silent during the exchange, except for the initial greetings and introductions, as he listened and tried to form an opinion of these new and powerful Valinor. He silently breathed a sigh of relief as he listened to the unwavering terms of Valinor ownership of the wormhole terminus. It was going to be bad enough with the massive amount of money the Grayson's would be raking in from the increase in their orbital infrastructure without their being able to charge transit fees for the terminus.

"Well Herr Neilson, speaking for both myself and my nation. I am glad that the Empire insists on maintaining a handle on the terminus. I am not sure that any entity of the Cluster, even the entirety of the Federation, would be capable of ensuring its safety from raider or.... other parties, with out your aid." said Charles.

"Also," he continued taking out a small datacard from his papers, "I wonder if you would be so kind as to transmit this message back to Alpha Centauri along with your own correspondence. It contains a message from my sovereign, the King of Nouveaux Caledonia. He instructed me to send a copy to your government if possible and also to play it for you, if it was agreeable. May I?"

Neilson bows his head to DeGaulle, "But of course, Ambassador DeGaulle, it would be my pleasure. If you would just follow me you may transmit the message personally."

Neilson draws out his large comp-pad as he stands, along with several other pieces of hardware. The localized Nu-space system projected by the Meier is more expanded than that of normal ships, befitting its long-range research and exploring mission profile.

**********

Unfortunately, Neilson's estimate of a half-hour was optimistic to put it mildly. As he prepared the transmission, Lady Diedre Rolt-Adonis and her Cabinet had at long last brough the discovery before the Congress of the Lords. And it had the exact effect she expected it would, which is more than part of the reason Neilson was dispatched so quickly.

Debate had raged for five hours. The Centrists--driven to their typical frothing madness by Archduke Faustus Metternicht and Baron Gunther von Richter--had demanded first the complete annexation of the Cluster wholesale, then the complete annexation of Yeltsin's Star by "any means necessary." Now they were to the more reasonable--from their stand point--position of just demanding the Star Empire seize the terminal for itself, once again by "any means necessary." Diedre surveys the assembled nobles in their formal robes and uniforms (for those in the service), hologram and real person alike, with a weary gaze.

"That is why we must seize the terminus, Ladies and Lords," Count Grigory Kalmykov said in the Imperial German that was the Government's official language. "We cannot allow the Star Empire's security to be entrusted to some neo-barbs that cannot even field a decent navy! What if this terminus was to fall into the hands of the Verniians! The Erewohnese! Or the Ortagans! No, we must act now before it is too late. The Star Empire's security must be subservient to no other nation! We must be forever ensured of it!"

"If I may, Honored Prime Minister?" comes a formal, deep voice. Diedre represses a smile as she turns to her husband, the many who many in the Centrist Party live in perpetual fear of.

"The Chair recognizes Lord Reynard Adonis. Please rise and state your point to the Honorable Count, Lord."

"Thank you, My Lady."

He turns toward Kalmykov, "Tell me, Count Kalmykov. Shall we give you a saber and send you through the wormhole? If you are so interested in 'accquiring' Yeltsin's Star from its inhabitants, I am sure many among us would be more than willing to let you lead the assault. And I'm sure these 'neo-barbs' as you call them will be more than welcome to give you a due and proper ceremony."

A murmer of amusement runs through a large portion of the assembly.

"You misunderstand my words, Lord Adonis. I..."

Diedre drifts away from the sparring between her husband and the bigoted Centrist noble as one of the Lords pages approaches.

"My Lady, we have the latest offer from Herr Neilson's efforts in Yeltsin's Star. They are here for your preview."

Diedre takes a moment to review Neilson's report.

"Send these to Duke Sterling. And tell him I will have them put before the chamber."

"Yes, My Lady."

Diedre allows the verbal thrasing of Kalmykov to continue for several more minutes before she sounds her gavel at her spot below the high throne reserved for House Alderman.

"My Lords and Ladies, we have word from Yeltsin's Star and the First Minister of Foreign Affairs selected representative of the Star Empire. He has an offer proposed by the nation known as the Protectorate of Grayson and the Federation of Allied Star Systems for our review. Duke Sterling, if you would?"

"Of course, Lady Prime Minister. My Lords and Ladies, the proposal of the Federation of Allied Systems through its representative state of the Protectorate of Grayson is as follows..."

The proposal sets off another interminable round of debate. The Centrist still demand sovereignity over the terminus, a position that few outside of their allies in the New Men Coalition support. But the matter of tarrifs rallies others to their side, among them the Augustgrad Union and a small faction of the Greater Raumreich Party. The Lords dissolves once again into arguements and caucusing, each side trying to manipulate the chambers from the cloak and back rooms.

**********

"The Chair recognizes Archduke Metternicht."

Yet again, Diedre adds in her head. But as the leader of the Centrists stands with his typical arrogant sneer, the doors to the chamber suddenly burst open. Lord Erwin Ribbentrop, falnked by a pair of Imperial Sovereign Protectors bursts into the Lords. Indeed, there was little question of who was entering after the Lords recovered from their initial shock. Only one person in all the Star Empire would dare to enter through the main chamber door when the Lords were in session.

"Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Friedelinde Alderman I, Empress of the Valinor, Matriarch of House Alderman, Queen of Yalta, Sovereign of Madras, High Chancellor of Archangel, Imperial-Archduchess of Seabright, Sovereign of Chandara, Lady of Mizar, Shogun of the Outer Dominion, Supreme Bashar of all the Great Dominions, Bashar of Alpha Centauri, Levenbrech of New Koln, Princess of Valprieza, Supreme Consul of Justice, and Protector of the Empire, will address the Lords. As will representatives of her delegation."

He bows and steps aside, the members of the Lords rise in haste. Friedelinde Alderman appears, wearing the formal evening dress common to the Imperial Court. A few steps behind her is Wilhelm Alderman, Crown Prince of House Alderman and Prince of Yalta, bearing Noirian--the Sword of the Protector--as the ultimate symbol of Alderman power. But there is a sharp intake of breath from many in the chamber as the rest of Her Majesty's delegation comes in. It is every member of the Congress of the Dominions, plus every Burseg from each Dominions world. They had all been hastily assembled by the fastest courier ships in the Empire.

Diedre stands and bows as Friedelinde sweeps up the stairs to take her position on the throne that so often stands empty.

"Your Majesty, honor us with your wisdom and your guidance in these proceedings as the Great House Alderman has in its long tenure as the Protector of the Realm we govern in its name," she says as he presents Friedelinde the gavel of the chamber.

"My Prime Minister, you have served us well, and I will not detract you from the path of your duties long."

Friedelinde sits calmly on the throne as she waits for the Congress of the Dominions Archons and Bursegs to assemble before the dias reserved for House Alderman and the Ministers of the Government. Then she speaks, her son, Lord Ribbentrop, and two additional Protectors standing like stone sentinels.

"We are not amused by the words we here from this chamber across the Great Road of the Aldermans. What we here from the mouths of of some in this chamber tinges the name of House Alderman, its Throne, and its realm. And we shall not tolerate it."

Her voice is calm, cutting through the chamber like a sharpened blade, "Nor are we along in our shame for the mouths of some in this chamber. The citizens of the Star Empire have made it clear of their outrage in this matter through their chosen representatives. Burseg Elgil--Master of Mizar in Our Name and the Name of Our Citizens, Chosen Speaker of the Congress of the Dominions--we recognize you, present to the chamber the words of the Dominions."

The high-featured elf of Mizar steps forward, "Her Most Imperial Majesty and the Honored Citizens of Her Dominions will not stand for the forcible annexation of any territory within the sector of space now known to us as the Talbott Cluster. To even suggest that possessions be seized by a nation and a people that have done us no wrong rises bile in the mouths of every citizen of Her Majesty's realm, and it disguists us that any of the Lords and Ladies of this hallowed chamber would suggest it. The Congress of the Dominions will find acceptable only the terms laid out by representatives of the Federation of Allied Star Systems through the Protectorate of Grayson and Herr Craig Neilson, Representative of Her Majesty. The Dominions will not support action to seize the wormhole terminal between Alpha Centauri and Yeltsin's Star. The matter of junction tarrifs is a matter for this body, and one which the Dominions will not address."

Elgil steps back into file with the rest of the Congress of the Dominions.

Friedelinde's voice rolls through the chamber once again, "We will not sanction military action to seize the wormhole terminal when we have not been threatened by the realm of the Protectorate of Grayson. For now we will leave the Prince of Yalta to observe these proceedings in our name. Do not make us have to present our displeasure to this chamber over this issue again. Honored Archons and Wise Bursegs, you have performed your duties for us well. Return to your chambers and your people with our blessings."

The Archons and Bursegs slowly file out. After them Friedelinde stands, and the rest of the chamber rises with her. She hands the gavel back to the waiting grip of Diedre Rolt-Adonis, and descends from the stair with carefully measured steps. Two of the Sovereign Protectors flank her, along with Lord Ribbentrop, as she sweeps out of the chamber. Prince Wilhelm and two Protectors remain in the high dias reserved for House Alderman.

"Please continue, Prime Minister," Wilhelm says, ice blue eyes of the Aldermans eying the chamber. The debate continues, but its subdued, and the topic of wormhole sovereignity is not breeched again. However, the matter of tarrifs rapidly replaces it in fever pitch. The next day a counter-proposal and greater guidelines for Neilson are sent via Nu-space. Even as the UVNN reports on the proceedings go out across Nu-space, and even spilling across the transmitters in Yeltsin's Star deplyoed by the Meier.

**********

Neilson returns to the conference chamber after sending out messages to the other representatives.

"My most sincere apologies, ladies and gentlemen," he says. "I never dreamed that this would cause such turmoil. However, I do have a counter proposition to present on behalf of Her Majesty and Her Majesty's Government. While we agree with the first terms of this proposal, the Congress of Lords wishes the discount on shipping to Yeltsin's Star to be raised to twenty percent."

Neilson awaits the Federation's response, thankful at least he has five percentage points to play with, and additional guidelines so that he will not have to conference with Imperial Centre on every decision.

"Twenty is far too much no more then fifteen surely that is reasonable enough Herr Neilson." Benita said to the Valinor representative.

Neilson pauses for a minute, hands neatly folded, eyes half-closed. He seems to be debating something internally.

"Fifteen will be acceptable to the Star Empire. With the stipulation that the Kriegsmarine will be allowed to construct permanent facilities possibly including but not exceeding a dry-dock facility for a permanent detachment to the Talbott Cluster, a central command facility for general operations within the Cluster, and a drone support facility/fighter base."

“We find those terms perfectly acceptable Herr Neilson, and the Federation recognizes the need for the Space Armada to provide escort for its merchant marine that will soon become a common sight among these parts.”

She paused before continuing.

“I hope that our joint occupation of the terminus will be an example of the cooperation and the partnership that will be fostered between our two peoples.”

The Neilson-Roxana Treaty of Grayson

Let it hereby be known that the United Star Empire of Valinon and the Federation of Allied Systems—through selected representatives from both the Protectorate of Grayson and the Honorable Ambassador of Rembrandt—have reached a mutual accord in regards to the sovereignty and use of the wormhole junction terminal that connects the system of Yeltsin’s Star with the system of Alpha Centauri. The accord is understood as follows by parties involved:

First Clause

The United Star Empire of Valinon and the Protectorate of Grayson—acting as a custodian for the interests of the Federation of Allied Star Systems—shall hold joint sovereignty over the Yeltsin’s Star end of the wormhole terminus. Her Majesty’s Kriegsmarine and Her Majesty’s Reichswehr shall establish bases and facilities as needed in order to ensure the security and availability of the junction to the Star Empire’s interests. These facilities are limited to: a dry-dock facility capable of maintain four line squadrons of the Kriegsmarine, a central command and strategic center for the Kriegsmarine and Reichswehr operations in the Cluster, and a drone fighter and support base.
The operations of Her Majesty’s Armed Forces shall not serve as a detriment to Grayson security operations around the terminus, and shall not interfere with due and necessary operations needed to ensure the sovereignty of the Grayson state is maintained. This term is only rendered in review if a state of emergency (i.e.-war or other diplomatic crisis) threatens the interests of the Star Empire, or if the Protectorate of Grayson can no longer uphold its responsibility to protect the terminal. This term may only be suspended by the mutual agreement of both parties.

Second Clause

The Yeltsin’s Star/Alpha Centauri terminal shall serve as a conduit of trade and travel between the Inner Marches and the Talbott Cluster. In signing this agreement, all parties acknowledge that they will work to ensure the terminal is kept open for all parties and that none may disrupt the necessary flow of goods and communications across it. This clause can only be rendered into review if one of the signatories of this treaty feels that a particular issue, nation, or people will pose an unnecessary risk to the sovereign parties involved. Each case brought into review must achieve mutual consensus.

Third Clause

The signatories of this treaty from the Talbott Cluster and its surrounding dependencies hereby acknowledge by signing this treaty that they will obey all strictures and regulations regarding use of the Valinor Wormhole Junction and the terminals of the Greater Raumreich Wormhole Network held under the jurisdiction of the United Star Empire of Valinon. They also hereby agree to acknowledge the necessity of the duties of tariffs levied on the termini under the Star Empire’s jurisdiction so long as they are maintained within reasonable levels. If the nations of the Talbott Cluster feel tariffs are unreasonable in nature, they may redress this concern with the Star Empire directly, or by the auspices of a neutral third party.
By signing this treaty the United Star Empire of Valinon hereby recognizes that it will obey all strictures and regulations regarding the use of the Yeltsin’s Star end of the wormhole terminal, so long as they remain reasonable. The Star Empire also recognizes ships registered in its name will enjoy a fifteen (15) percent reduction of locally applied junction tariffs. If the Star Empire believes its interests are being threatened or policies are unreasonable, it may redress concerns with the Protectorate of Grayson directly or through the auspices of a neutral third party.

Fourth Clause

This treaty shall be legally binding to all parties that sign if for the next five years, and will expire in the year 1170, After Landing, Imperial Alderman Calendar. Three months before the expiration date of this treaty, all signatories are required to meet at the Skye Complex on the Isle of Clouds on Proxima Centauri I—the headquarters of the Liga der Raumreich. If signatories chose not to send a delegation to the renewal conference, their opinions will not be heard before the forum that will reestablish this treaty for another five-year period.

Fifth Clause

This treaty may be amended every five years at the mandated renewal conference with the mutual consent of all signatory nations. Any amendments proposed before the next renewal conference may only be placed into the terms of this threat if it is agreed upon by a majority of the signatories. One of the supporters of any amendment before a renewal conference must be either the United Star Empire of Valinon or the Protectorate of Grayson.

Sixth Clause

If a signatory wishes to withdraw from the treaty, it must send formal announcement of its intent to do so to all other signatories of the threat six months in advance. The only time this does not apply if is a signatory chooses to withdraw from the treaty during a renewal conference, or due to an amendment added under the powers of the Fifth Clause. During the sixth months, a nation seeking to withdraw from the treaty may retract its withdrawal notice without any ill will or repercussions against. However, if a nation formally withdraws from this treaty it acknowledges that its rights and its interests regarding the use of the Yeltsin’s Star/Alpha Centauri wormhole terminal are not protected under the guidelines of this treaty.

Signatories

Craig Neilson, for Her Majesty, Empress Friedelinde Alderman I, and Her Majesty’s Government in the name of the United Star Empire of Valinon

Benita Roxana, Under-Secretary of State of the Protectorate of Grayson, Acting as Representative of the Federation of Allied Systems

After conferring with Van Dort, Benita signs the treaty.

"I have a feeling that the future will hold some interesting times for our two people Herr Neilson." Benita said with a smile.

Sirius Markham feel infinitely more at home here than he ever did on his brief visit to the Grayson warship and the even more brief visit to the Graysons' home world. Nothing against the Graysons, but Sirius was more than willing to let Neilson and the Academy contact team handle the tricky first round of international relations. Five days after the dinner aboard the Ares, and now the treaty--already dubbed the Neilson-Roxana Treaty by the Valinor newsnets--was preparing to move into final vote. Sirius had cut the UVNN feed hours ago, tired of hearing the Centrists entrenching themselves to protest on Valinor/Cluster relations. Sometimes he found it hard to believe international centers of studies in Sol had said the Valinor government ran at ninety-four percent efficiency.

At least his little slice of Valinon was running efficiently. The Meier has almost a complete read-out on the wormhole, and soon Sirius will be able to summon the away team back from Grayson and set a course back for the Twin Suns.

Suddenly, Gene's avatar appears.

"Sirius, we're being hailed. Priority message from Alpha Centauri coming in from the Kriegsmarine."

"What could they want?" Sirius brings up the brief text message, and his eyes bulge as he looks at the time stamp.

"Anita!" he shouts to her standing near the station they were using to manage the surveying efforts. "Get ready to move. We have two frigates in bound from Centauri in nine minutes and we have to be clear of the terminus."

"What about the negotiations?"

"The Kriegsmarine no doubt wants to survey the terminal on its own," Gene interjects. "Typical of the Admiralty, they don't trust the data they get unless OKI confirms it."

"Whatever it is we need to move now. Gene, bring the manus online and file a pattern with the Graysons. Also send a burst message explaining to them what's going on."

"Done. Manus online in fifteen seconds."

Sirius waits, fingers drumming on the Meier's flight controls. Once the manuvering engines show green, he slews the Meier away from the exit point of the terminus. Seven minutes later the first frigate, a sleek deadly profile, suddenly leaps into existence in Yeltsin's Star.

An all-channel broadcast goes out, "This is Fregattenkapitan Cert Malschaert, commanding the HMS Fogger. I am here to commence a study on behalf of the the Admiralty of Her Majesty's Kriegsmarine in order to make a report on necessary security measures regarding the terminus."

The Fogger moves to accelerate, rapidly clearing the exit vector of the terminus. Less than two minutes later a second frigate erupts from the terminus.

"This is Fregattenkapitan Jewett Isolda of the HMS Raven. I have orders from the Star Lords of Her Majesty's Kriegsmarine to initiate a general survey of the Federation and surrounding systems. At this time I formally request access to any star charts and navigation data that the Protectorate's navy can offer."

The frigates continue on their course straight away from the terminus' exit vector. The Fogger starts to move slowly to move back toward the terminus, below the exit vector, while the Raven continues its vector along the system's ecliptic.

http://rpggamer.org/shippics/nebulonh.jpg

"Begin transmission."

"Verniian cruiser, this is First Fang Akhjer nar Val of the VIS Frawqirg. We are aware of your presence in this system, and it is of vital importance that I speak to the most senior officer in your command group at once. I mean you no harm, and I have vital information that can assist you in your travels in the Ortagan space. Also under my command is the com/con 344-Har. Once again it is vitally important I speak with the senior most commander of your fleet group."

"Well, this is....unexpected. Send reply: VIS Frawqirg, this is Captain Christopher Bertrand of the IVN Concorde. Please maintain your current distance while we communicate your request to the Commodore."
***
"Sir, are you sure it's wise to risk yourself like this?"
"No, I'm not, but the Vaku are an honorable race, and I don't believe they'd resort to some sort of trickery like you're thinking. I'll meet with them. We'll disengage from the freighter and translate into the system. Prepare my pinnace."
***
Blue transit energy flared from drive nodes as the Geneva translated back to normal space at the hyper limit. The sleek white cruiser accelerated inward, and sent a single transmission. "VIS Frawqirg, this is IVN Geneva, carrying Commodore Blackwell."

While it would take several days at least for the Vegetables to re-visit the wormhole terminal, being berthed at some distance from it, its beacon still sits in space, happily transmitting various technical nonsense, stuff that would probably only make sense to astrophysicists and AIs, unaware of the possible implications of what its doing.

Any ships that come through the wormhole will without a doubt detect its powerful signal...

OCC: Eh...if that's alright...

"Well, this is....unexpected. Send reply: VIS Frawqirg, this is Captain Christopher Bertrand of the IVN Concorde. Please maintain your current distance while we communicate your request to the Commodore."
***
"Sir, are you sure it's wise to risk yourself like this?"
"No, I'm not, but the Vaku are an honorable race, and I don't believe they'd resort to some sort of trickery like you're thinking. I'll meet with them. We'll disengage from the freighter and translate into the system. Prepare my pinnace."
***
Blue transit energy flared from drive nodes as the Geneva translated back to normal space at the hyper limit. The sleek white cruiser accelerated inward, and sent a single transmission. "VIS Frawqirg, this is IVN Geneva, carrying Commodore Blackwell."

Akhjer listens without emotion as the comm officer delivers the Verniian message back to him.

He turns to the tactical officer, who also serves as the Frawqirg's small hanger bay's coordinator, "Have my shuttle readied."

"At once, Honored First."

Akhjer turns back to the comm officer, "Convey my thanks to this Commodore Blackwell. Then transmit coordinates equi-distant between our current position and the Geneva. Inform Commodore Blackwell that I will rendezvous with him there in my shuttle. I will be bringing only myself and a pilot."

"Yes, Honored First."

Akhjer turns to Kurthag as he prepares to leave, "Hyilghar, you have my command until I return from this jirak."

"Vrag'chath," Kurthag says with a slight bow, "may my claws and teeth serve you faithfully, and may Sivar guide my actions so that I will not fail you."

"I am positive that the Goddess will not let you stray from my directives, Hyilghar. She has always seen to it in her wisdom to carry you through before."

With that Akhjer leaves the bridge and makes rapidly for the hanger bay.

**********

Several minutes later, Akhjer's shuttle races toward the rendezvous point. The Naktarg-class shuttle resembles many other ships of the Vaku Imperial Navy. Despite years of contact with the Valinor and the rest of the Inner Marches the Vaku have yet to develop a sense of asthetics, or at least a sense of what humans and most other species consider it to be. The shuttle is a design of harsh angles, appearingly built out of daggers and knives. The militaristic ship slows as it approaches the rendezvous, waiting its Verniian doppelganger.

A few minutes after the last transmission, Geneva's boat bay doors open and the Commodore's pinnace launches. In contrast to the aesthetically unappealing Vaku design, the Verniian VIP pinnace is designed to be eye catching, and the interior is luxurious for a military vessel, even by civilian standards. It manuevers the last few kilometers to the meeting point using its thrusters only, to avoid hitting the other pinnace with it's impeller wedge.

It slowly rotates in space, presenting it's docking hatch toward the other pinnnace to await coupling.

Akhjer waits patiently until the docking tube's indicator turns to the off-colored yellow-green of secure link. Once it does, he rapidly moves to cycle the hatch. Then he pushes off tenetively from his shuttle's own floor, and into the zero gravity environment of the tube. Akhjer moves with absurd grace and skill for a creature of his size. At 2.7 meters, Akhjer is tall--even by Vaku standards. And all of his body is lithe and muscular under the unyielding armor and tunic fibers of his dress uniform.

He manuvers through the tube, seeming to pounce from point to point by jumping off the sides of the tube. At roughly two-thirds of the way down the tube he suddenly reorients himself and pushes himself off with his hands. His feet are pointed toward the awaiting hatch of the Verniian pinnace, and as he closes his feet and his hands once again move to find the purchase of gravity. Unarmed, except for the ceremonial dagger--a literal sword by human standards--of his office that remains sheathed at his side.

He speaks in Valinor accented Standard English, "As First Fang of the Frawqirg, I request permission to come aboard and conference with Commodore Blackwell."

"Permission granted, First Fang." The hatch slides open.

The deck inside is covered with a thick, dark blue carpeting, and a minibar is set along one bulkhead. The rest of the passenger compartment is taken up by comfortable looking seats, with wider then normal aisles between them.

Commodore Blackwell, a middle aged man of average height, with brown eyes, is standing an appropriate distance from the hatch. His uniform very much resembles the old uniform of the People's Republic, except its colors are gold and black instead of silver and black, and the iron cross and laurel on his cap and breast pocket have been replaced by a stylized three headed dragon clutching a star. A marine bodyguard stands to his left and slightly behind him, alert but non-threatening.

Blackwell salutes, "I am Commodore Blackwell, commanding officer of the 1st Talbott Expeditionary Squadron. Welcome aboard."

Akhjer gives Blackwell a half-bow, "I greet you, Honored Commodore, I am Akhjer nar Val of the VIS Frawqirg, attached to the First Reconnisance Squadron of the Vaku Imperial Navy. Also under my command is the 344-Har, a command and control support craft."

The Vaku seems to barely notice the marine at Blackwell's side, as is the custom of the Vaku armed forces. Those who are not of rank at such proceedings as the brief jirak are considered to stand in the shadows, not to speak unless spoken to, and not to interfer in the matters of their superiors.

"Commodore, I have strict orders from my group commander, the Honored Kalahn Retha nar Kanaki," Blackwell could recognize the rough Vaku equivalent of a Commodore, "regarding an encounter with any forces of the Verniian navy."

"It is not the concern of the Greater Empire why you are present in Ortagan space now, nor what your intentions are at this point, but there is a matter that you need to know. Whatever your intentions are, your command has caught the eye of the Great Lion and they know you are trying to pass through this sector," Akhjer uses the "informal" slang the Vaku use for speaking of their Valinor allies--not quite as derogatory as the old People's Navy's term as "Aldies" but as close as a Vaku will go. Akhjer seems to be waiting for a comment from Blackwell, it is obvious he has more information and is waiting to see the Commodore's reaction.

Blackwell seems slightly surprised at the news that he has to worry about the Valinor as well as the Ortagans. "Ah....that is certainly interesting information. I thank you for it, but I have a few questions. Is the Kriegsmarine actively searching for my squadron, and why do you choose to be so helpful?"

"Kalahn nar Kanaki's command has confirmed reports of two Valinor command groups operating in this sector. One is a carrier task force recently arrived in this sector, under the flag of the HMS Ark Royal. We believe the Ark Royal's command group consists of no more than nine ships--including the carrier--and we know that one of these is a heavy cruiser, one a frigate, and three destroyers. The second command group is the Agamennon-class battlecruiser HMS Chimera and its destroyer escort the HMS Broadsword. The Chimera and its captain--Kapitan zur Sternen Ekaterina Tereshkova--have long served the Great Lion in this sector. We have suspicions that the Chimera is attached to the Office of Kriegsmarine Intelligence, but have no way to confirm these suspicions."

"When queried by the Kalahn both Valinor commanders say that they are looking for any and all Verniian ships trying to pass through Ortagan space, and that these ships pose a threat to the stability and security of both Valinon and Vakutu. They have demanded that our commanders give them any information they can on your movements, and we believe that the Valinor are also searching routes they believe you will take through Ortagan space."

Akhjer locks eyes with Blackwell, "The Valinor are a methodical people, Honored Commodore. Nothing can escape their ruthless determination, and given enough time they will find your command. However, the Greater Empire grows weary of the Great Lion's inaction regarding the Ortagan Hegemony and its designs. The Kalahn has conferred with the home world and His Most Honored Majesty, may Sivar eternally bless his hunts, hopes that the Verniian Imperium may remember any assistance we render their commanders seeking passage through Ortagan space."

Ten ships acted as a ready alert squadron arrayed in a thin staggered line about 350k-klicks from the wormhole. It was a formidable force by the Federation’s standards. The lead ship was one of the “new” Ares class heavy cruisers and the ship itself bore the class name, it was now ten years old. Behind it were two Fox class corvettes armed with their powerful rail guns and duel spinal lasers. Behind it were four of Rembrandts’ old, slow, and sluggish, but heavily armed Orestes system defense monitors. Then came a pair of Grayson’s system defense monitors that shared the same characteristics of the Rembrandt’ units, finally followed the carrier Avenger that could in a matter of minutes deploy its six squadrons of Tiger class star fury fighters. At any given time a single squadron of eight furies flew CAP.

For all the firepower the two largest powers of the federation assembled at the terminus the two Valinor ships probably possessed more.

Rear Admiral Cosgrove was a typical Grayson, he was short and rather unimpressive looking and wore a thick mustache. All of his generic physical qualities led most people to overlook him as ordinary however he was one of the best officers in the entire Federation which explained why he was in command of the Squadron whose responsibility it was to protect the wormhole.

He chuckled to himself as he regarded the pair of Valinor ships, they were some of the lightest units fielded by the Star Armada, but he viewed their silhouettes with interest. They seemed to be a blend of organic curves and more industrial cruder sharp angles. Altogether he thought them to be quite beautiful and impressive warships and was glad that they were on his side.

“They certainly do not waste anytime on pleasantries do they Henry” He remarked to his exec, “No, how are you doing or hey how about dinner tonight…I fear it may be all business with these Valinor, maybe some of Tillman’s Ale will cure them of that!”

”Yes sir, after all how can any hard working navy man turn down a good brewski” remarked his squat sat exec who was strapped into his chair just like his captain. None of the Grayson or Federation ships in general supported internal gravity fields. Cosgrove had heard of a prototype ship that was going to utilize rotation to produce artificial gravity, it would certainly make them much more pleasant. One forgets the comforts that gravity enabled especially not having to relive one self into a bag.

“Comms open a channel to the Valinor frigates” He continued when the lieutenant signaled him to go on.

“Welcome to Yeltsin’s Star Fregattenkapitan’s Isolda and Malschaert. Fregattenkapitan Isolda, I am having my navigation’s officer transmit to your vessel our navy’s star charts they contain complete information on the Federation and its protectorate’s territory and also of many other non-allied systems. Fregattenkapitan Malscharet if you require any assistance at all in your studies please feel free to ask for it at any time, until then I shall leave you to your work.”


The Ares http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v503/thewick/Hyperion.gif

The Foxes http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v503/thewick/Olympus.gif

The Rembrandters' Orestes http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v503/thewick/Orestes.gif

The Grayson version http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v503/thewick/Orestes_Official.gif

And finally the avenger carrier http://www.wolfsshipyard.mystarship.com/Drawings/Earth/Avenger.gif

Isolda survey's the small array of local warships near her vessel.

"A very straight forward design," says Chandrashaker, her Chandaran executive.

"In this realm of space it most likely means they are devilishly effective against anything else locally built," Isolda says. "Have we completed the data dump yet, Comm?"

"Just a few more minutes, Ma'am," Isolda nods.

"Give me a channel to the Grayson flagship, if you would."

"Yes, Ma'am," Isolda watches as the Fogger continues to drift back toward the wormhole terminus. A flurry of activity suddenly appears on the sensors near its drone launch chutes. Two of the Fogger's Ferret-class reconnaisance drones race away from their mothership, and move rapidly toward the terminus. A handful of heartbeats later two more Ferrets leave the Fogger, one heads in-system and the other out-system. They do not bother activating any of their stealthing or ECM packages, content to merely announce their presence as the gather information from their powerful sensor suites and feed it back to the hungry databanks of the Fogger.

Isolda breaks her eyes away from the course projections of the Ferrets, and activates the comm channel to the Grayson flottilla.

"Thank you for your assistance. I regret that I cannot stay longer and enjoy some Grayson hospitality, but I am afraid my orders require me to proceed with all expediency."

And so do orders from even above the Star Lords' heads she adds to herself.

"Helm, lay in a course for Nouveaux Caledonia. You are released to activate the Verners at the soonest possible convenience."

"Aye, Ma'am. We will translate into hyperspace in four minutes."

The Raven's acceleration climbs steadily for four minutes, reaching less than half-power at close to 330 gravities before it vanishes into hyperspace. The Fogger and its drones continue in their methodical patterns, seemingly indifferent to their sister ship's departure.

**********

Nine starched white uniforms surround the conference table on the HMSS Sanctuary, a viewport shows the world of Proxima Centauri I--the Vaterland of Valinon--driftingly lazily below. The vast installation and shipyards that is the pulsating heart of the Kriegsmarine. Nine Grossadmirals, nine Star Lords, the rulers and masters of every facet of the Kriegsmarine.

"The Fogger's reports are very much conclusive. It is my personal belief that we may begin construction on the drone support facility and the command centre within the month. The dry-docks can be started within six weeks," says Grossadmiral Lord Rodolphe Kaelin, Fourth Star Lord and director of the Bureau of Ships.

"Tell me, Rodoplhe, will you be using modular elements or will you still be using normal construction methods?" says Grossadmiral Sir Waldemar De Graff, Eighth Star Lord and commander of the Greater Raumreich Corridor.

"I had planned to use modular construction elements on the com/con facility and the drone base. That way they may be completed with all possible expediency. The dry-docks I intend to construct using regular methods, but with modular connectors on the outward sections that way it can be rapidly expanded if the need arises."

"What is your estimated time of completion?" Grossadmiral Lady Katherine Adonis, First Star Lord of the Admirality, says as she skims back over Kaelin's report.

"Two months on both the com/con and the drone base. Five to six months on the dry-dock facility."

"Good. Duarte, can you have a munitions yard and supply cache ready in Yeltsin's Star by three weeks?"

"I can deploy a basic one in two and a half," says Grossadmiral Duarte Mota, Sixth Star Lord and director of the Bureau of Munitions and Supplies.

"Two and a half it is then," Katherine says, laying her comp-pad back down on the table. "Now we come to the real issue. Her Majesty has authorized an expansion of the Admiralty with the addition of one new Star Lord. This office will be the commander of the Talbott Cluster Corridor, and will operate with the same basic directives and authority as the commanders of the Greater Raumreich and Klien Corridors. Klera," she says with a nod to Baroness Klera Dopfer, Fifth Star Lord and director of the Bureau of Personnel, "has already selected a panel of candidates and forwarded it to me. Based on this I have made a selection."

"Mi-soon," Katherine says, turning to the commander of the Klien Corridor that covers the border with Ortagan space, "I have selected Shen Tai to be named commander of the Talbott Corridor."

"I will be sorry to loose him," the Ninth Star Lord says. "However, I expect that his abilities will serve him well in Talbott."

Shen Tai, currently an Admiral commanding the Quentin Forrest-class dreadnought HMS Concordia has established quite a reputation for himself. Despite the conflict it causes with Roum, Shen Tai's command has worked to tame the empty systems between New Ortaga, Valinon, and Vernii, working to eliminate the pirate groups and factions still left after the conclusion of the War of the Lion. Katherine believed his tactical skill in the area of policing and securing the star lanes of the Klien Corridor would easily translate to the Cluster.

"Indeed. Her Majesty will be summoning Admiral Shen to the Palace within a few days to promote him to the rank of Grossadmiral. If he is sailing the Great March, I do hope you will call him back to Klien."

"Of course," Mi-soon adds.

"Thank you. Now onto the matter of the Archangel yards...."

"See what I mean all business with these people exec. Fast buggers they are though, how much accel was she pulling there? A little more then 300 gravities at least i would guess."

"Yes sir, sensor made it out to be 320 and all without an impeller wedge." His exec replied.

"Yes, the Space Armada has seemed to have grown past that technology, I’d hazard to guess that it is some sort of hybrid technology they procured from Ortagan gravitic drives. That was probably less then half her maximum acceleration“ Cosgrove remarked. "I’ve read intelligence reports on those drones they deployed marvelous little things aren't they?"

"Yes sir they are."

"From the looks of things we are a little bit behind the technology curve Exec, now that this area of space is becoming more popular i have a sick feeling that our enemies will be getting a slight taste of that technology and send it our way. And we will be in trouble when they do..." Cosgrove remarked darkly and wasn’t expecting any sort of reply from his exec this time. He just stared into the terminus and wondered if the Grayson much less the Federation would survive the unknown events of the future.

Blackwell nods in acknowledgement as he absorbs the information. "The Imperium does not forget its debts. So can you give us any information on where those Valinor groups were last spotted? That would be immensely helpful in staying a step ahead of our would-be enemies."

"Our reports on the carrier task force an its elements are erractic to say the very least. They have been able to dodge most of our efforts to track them, and destroyers and frigates acting as forward scouts for the rest of the task force are making random apperances everywhere within our operation zone."

"The Chimera is an easier solution, however, Commodore. It and its destroyer escort were last sited in the Har'Nalta 14 system, or O-11 by your star charts. It has been expanding its search pattern outward from Erewohn for two weeks now, and I strongly suspect that Tereshkova may have picked up a lead on your ships intention by forcing ships from Erewohn to heave to and 'liberating' the information from their crew."

"I can confirm that much because the last time we sighted the Chimera, it had stopped an Erewohnese merchantman trying to slip illegally through Ortagan space. And I have received reports from other independent ships in the area of similar incidents with the Chimera or her escort."

Blackwell's eyes narrow at the mention of Chimera's harassment of allied merchant shipping, and the term "liberating" had a rather sinister meaning behind it that he didn't like. "Such acts could be construed as piracy in some situations, I guess that the Kriegsmarine's OKI has no respect for interstellar law if it's convenient for them to ignore it. I can see why His Majesty is weary of Valinor actions, when they act like Ortagans themselves."

Blackwell had a dilemma on his hands. On one hand, he had his orders to get the expeditionary squadron to Talbott, and that took precedence. But on the other, that ship was harassing allied merchants and innocent civilians, and that demanded justice. But he had his orders, and he would have to obey them. However, that didn't mean he couldn't stretch them. He wouldn't go looking for the Valinor battlecruiser, but if the Chimera stumbled across his convoy, he would engage it if it didn't immediately stand down.

"The Valinor are methodical, but despite all the Great Lion's power they are still more paranoid than they lead the rest of us to believe, Commodore," Akhjer says, eying Blackwell carefully. "And is always with the Great Lion they work as much by the threat of force as force itself to reach their ends. The traders I have spoken with say the Valinor merely say that they may speak freely to them, or explain their presence to a Solar Navy sector commandant. As usual with the Great Lion, their methods are not quite illegal, yet not quite legal either."

"I do hope that you will take care, Commodore," Akhjer says. "If there is any way I or any of my honored brothers in arms can assist you you need only ask. The only stipulation is that we cannot risk causing a breach in the relations between the Star Empire and the Home World."

"Do be wary of the Great Lion, though, Commodore," Akhjer says, moving back toward the lock. "I have been to their Twin Suns, the people may think they have absolved themselves of the darker side of their nature, but they have not. The various branches of Her Majesty's Government still do the dark necessities that are a fact of life in the Inner March, and always will be so long as the balance of power remains unchanged. They are merely more adapt at concealing their actions now more than ever. And I do not think any of the Inner March governments are quite as innocent as they pretend," that is a very deep admission from a Vaku, and a steely glint crosses Akhjer's slitted pupils. "May Sivar give you blessing in your mission and your hunts, Honored Commodore Blackwell."

"I thank you for the information, and I won't forget the favor." Blackwell salutes Akhjer as he leaves the pinnace.

Blackwell's pinnace waits until the docking tube is disengaged, then manuevers to a safe distance before engaging it's impellers and returning to the Geneva.

The two cruisers head back to the hyper-limit and wink out of existence as they translate into hyper. Within the hour, a courier boat is dispatched from one of the freighters to take Blackwell's report to back to Gregor.

Although specialized gravimetric sensors could probably detect the telltale signature of a hyperspacing RGF ship, making its own little wormhole close by, although to most observers it would appear that this RGF cruiser, the very Vegetables which had made the first visit to the region, had come right out of the blue.

Inside, the crew and AI are surprised to find so many people around, thinking that the region of space in question was not very well traveled due to piracy. Also, the danger of collision involved in hyperspacing near other ships not equipped with the standard RGF hyperspace-formatters, devices which would space ships to avoid collisions when exiting FTL travel, would prevent the crew from normally entering an area in such a willy-nilly fashion.

"Attention all vessels, this is the RGSV Vegetables. We are on a scientific scouting mission in this region, concerning a certain wormhole event that we find interesting."

OOC: LRR, what area is the ship in right now?

OOC: LRR, what area is the ship in right now?

OCC: As I am a little bit confused as to where exactly the two Wormhole terminii are, I guess the one near New Ortaga, where I though there are (were?) ships.

OOC: LRR one end of the worm hole is in Alpha Centauri the other end the one i assume youve just hypered to is the one in Yeltsin's Star. It is the home of my Grayson people and apart of my "Federation" faction in the Talbott Cluster.

It is located in the "Southern" raumreich the nearest ortagan colony is New Edo or there fleet base in Dylar, each about 150 LY away. I would prefer that the Hegemony's ever expanding borders not being so close but oh well.

OCC: Ok, its the Yeltsin's star one.

Sorry about that.

Planet Rembrandt
Somerset System
Capital of the Federation of Allied Systems

New Dazing the capital of Rembrandt was one of the larger cities on the planet. Its skyline rose high and its building beautiful and graceful, lacking the industrial feel of Austin City on Grayson. The Rembrandt were the center trade hub in the Federation, the center of things. The Rembrandt Merchant Marine was the largest in the Federation and the Somerset Militia had no equal besides the Grayson navy. However without the other members of the Federation and the trade they brought the Rembrandt system would be bankrupt within a month.

In one of the older sections of the city was a non-descript tower that served as the federal government headquarters, and the Congress was in session, it twenty people were in one of its rooms seated at a round table, a pair of congressmen represented each system of the Federation. This was these senators and their staff members constituted the government of the Federation.

The government title of “Federation” was a misnomer in all actuality it was only a Confederation at best. Under the current Articles of the Federation the central government of the Federation was a very factionalized system-centered government also used to establish the Rembrandt Trade Union that stimulated the Rembrandt economy at the expanse of their neighbors.

This governmental system would be subject to much heated debate in today’s session and would be cause for some of the great events of the future. There were many forces in motion in the Federation and outside its borders. The Valinor presence and the appearance of the wormhole would possible act as a catalyst to propel the Federation into realization of threats it faced. The Mesan Corporations were expanding their spheres of influence and the Monican Republics borders were ever expanding pulling in more and more genetic material for the slavers to experiment with.

It is going to be an “Interesting” time for the Federation.


OOC: L8ter I will time up some dialogue to tired now though… :(

Isolda walks calmly toward the cabin that was normally reserved for the master of the HMS Raven, however, the Raven had a passenger who was making the normal cabin assignments a thing of the past for at least awhile. She nods politely to the Imperial Sovereign Protectors standing guard at the door.

"Oberstleutnant, if you would be so good as to announce to The Lady that I have arrived."

"At once, Mein Frau Fregattenkapitan," the Sovereign Protector on the right enters the cabin. A few moments later he returns, and bows his head respectfully to Isolda.

"The Lady will see you, Mein Frau."

"Thank you, Oberstleutnant," she steps through the door slowly, and waits a moment for it to close.

"Ah, Kapitan Isolda, I take it that the Raven is near Caledonian territory?" comes a voice from the chair, initially turned toward the vidscreen showing a view of the wild colors and swirling lights of jump space. It turns slowly to reveal Katherine Alderman, Princess of Madras and second child of Empress Friedelinde and the Prince-Consort James Stewart of Yalta.

"Yes, My Lady, we will be entering the Caledonian home system in six hours."

"Very good. A pity the ansible network does not reach out this far yet. I take it you will dispatch a courier drone back to Yeltsin if necessary?"

"Of course, My Lady."

"Good, then when we exit jump-space send a drone back to Yeltsin. Before you dispatch it, I need to download a few requests for preliminary reports from Rembrandt and Grayson."

"I will alert you immediately, My Lady."

"And, Kapitan, I would like something besides the Protectors to accompany me to Caledonia. If you could join me, perhaps? And one or two of your officers?"

Isolda knowns this is a polite command, to deny the direct invitation of House Alderman for anything is to play with a dangerous temptress.

"It would be my pleasure and an honor, My Lady. I will extend the invitation to some of my officers as well."

"Thank you, Kapitan. Do not cripple the ship on my behalf, just a few of your best to help us show the Caledonians the Star Empire is deeply devoted to establishing a permanent relationship with their government will do."

Isolda thinks that the Empress sending her own daughter would be enough, but the rulers of the Star Empire never did anything by halves. Besides, at least Her Majesty and her heirs seemed to have a firm grip on the fact that political necessity did not always out-weight military order.

Isolda bows, deeply and moves to leave the cabin, "I will be ready at a moment's notice, My Lady."

Governmental Tower
Planet Rembrandt
Somerset System
Capital of the Federation of Allied Systems

A cloud of grey hazy smoke clung to the ceiling of the room that the congressmen held their session in. Murmurs filled the room as the congressmen talked among them. Soon the low murmur became louder and louder as four congressmen started to vigorously quarrel, the topic was the same heard almost every session. The systems of Spit, Montana, and Marsh were protesting against the Rembrandt Trade Unions policies in regarding their trade. As it stood due to past legislation all raw materials from the three less developed systems must be exported to Rembrandt where they would be refined and shipped back to their system of origin for sale.

That quarrel was soon only one of many. The congressmen from Grayson were requesting a Federal Navy Task group to provide permanent security for the wormhole. The mobilization of this force however was proving very difficult. The ten full member systems of the Federation each maintain a standing navy or militia of some sort. The largest and most powerful was the Somerset Militia of the Rembrandters then came the Grayson Space Navy, the rest of the Federation's navy's numbered less then a hundred hyper capable captial ships.

The problem to forming a combined Federation Task group was multiple, who would command it, how many ships would be contributed, and finally and most importantly who would pay for it. The congress had no way to mandate who would pay for it as in the Articles of Federation denied the Congress any right to tax member nations.

The endless bickering continued for hours, nothing at all was accomplished except for the tiered of vocal cords. The Congress allowed few authoritivr powers to its elected members and it turns not much ever got accomplished.

Blackwell ground his teeth in frustration at how slow his convoy was moving. Only 1089 c, Christ, we could be doing just over twice that if we didn't have these damned merchies to watch over. The convoy was currently in the upper level of the Delta band of Hyper, the highest attainable for merchantmen, and although warships could theoretically ascend to the upper Eta band, the Navy's BuShips frowned on that, as it placed unnecessary wear and tear on the impellers.

They were far from O-14 now, nearing the area of space that marked the limit of Ortagan territory, and the sooner we reach it, the better, Blackwell thought.

The RGSV Vegetables, its crew pretty well exhausted with the wormhole, having measured just about every possible figure and observed every feature of the event, fires its powerful ion thrusters and makes for what appears to be a populated planet, in the system labeled 'Yeltsin' by the star charts.

The AI finds it very odd that, having mistakenly hyperspaced into a populated, important system, the ship has not been hailed or challenged as of yet.

To say that the Kriegsmarine is not paranoid would be to do the Great Star Lords of the Admiralty a great injustice. However, their combined paranoia has served the United Star Empire of Valinon well. This paranoia, mixed heavily with the zealous pursuit of pushing the technological curve farther and farther ahead, has meant that for a half century, the naval primacy of the Star Empire has been without question. To say that Valinon is not a naval power, that the bulk of the Star Empire's wealth and power is not drawn from the force of the Kriegsmarine, is to admit that one is a fool. The Kriegsmarine is the undisputed master of the Raumreich, and it is perhaps one of the most effective star fleets in the galaxy.

And so, less than a month after the discovery of the wormhole terminus linking Alpha Centauri to Yeltsin's Star, the Star Lords have already set the vast engines of the Kriegsmarine into motion to defend the interests of the Star Empire in a region so recently made very, very "close". At the Centauri end of the terminus, a staggering network of weapons drones, dedicated sensor platforms, mobile system defense platforms, traffic controller nodes, and aerospace control measures are already assembled and deployed.

A few million kilometers away from the terminus--a mere hand's reach in the terms of the distances between the stars and their celestial children--a small armada is taking form. At the center of a formation of destroyers, frigates, several cruisers, a handful of battlecruisers, a super-carrier, and a battleship is a single dreadnought--the HMS Concordia, so recently returned from the wilds of Borderlands between Ortagan, Valinor, Verniian, and Vaku space. On the observation deck of the Concordia stands the most recently ascended member of the Great Star Lords.

Grossadmiral the Honorable Shen Tai, Tenth Star Lord commanding the Talbott Corridor now wears the spotless white uniform of a Grossadmiral, trimmed in silver and gold piping, gold and silver epaulets guarding his shoulders, and well polished jack boots that reflect the artifical lighting of the dreadnought. He is a small-statured man, his ancestery obviously drawn from Japanese/Korean mixture that made up the bulk of the population of the Dominion of Outer Centauri. But the Dominion was absorbed by the Star Empire over two centuries ago, and it has been ages since the bulk of its former citizens considered themselves anything but Valinor. He watches with alert dark eyes as a pair of destroyers divisions and a trio of frigates slide into the formation. Shen Tai turns slowly to Jake Featherson, a Fregattenkapitan and the recently promoted Grossadmiral's chief of staff.

"Do we have any reports as to when the last of our destroyer and frigate divisions will arrive?" Shen Tai asks in the flowingly accented Imperial English of the Outer System of Alpha Centauri.

"Yes, sir. The remaining destroyer divisions are inbound from Yalta and should arrive at 1330 today. We have received word from Pergamum Base that the frigates have departed Klein and will arrive in Alpha Centauri the tomorrow at 0900."

"Excellent," the Grossadmiral says with a curt nod. "Send a message through the terminus to Fregattenkapitan Malschaert that I will be arriving in Yeltsin the in three days. He is to alert the Grayson high command at this as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir."

**********

The Yeltsin's Star end of the terminus is certainly not inactive by any measure either, even if the activity is not all Valinor. The Fogger, now joined by a pair of destroyers have secured the terminus along with Grayson and Federation ships. The Kriegsmarine warships have also established a network of defensive drones and dedicated sensor platforms, smaller in number than their cousins on the other side of the terminus, but no less effective.

Several million kilometers away additional centers of activity are easily distinguished from the eternal night of space. Skeletal frames, construction girders, and modular sections shipped in from Alpha Centauri flash with arc-welders's fire as the command center for the Talbott Corridor and the corresponding drone support base are assembled. Slightly further out the array of containers and additional skeletal frames mark where eventually a dry-dock facility will be established.

Toward the inner system, another construction site is taking shape. The Nova Technologies Syndicate is well on its way toward starting the construction of one of its ansible platforms. Nova Tech is already moving rapidly to extend their FTL communication monopoly into the Talbott Cluster, and also bring the wonders of Nu-space to the citizens of the Cluster--Federation or otherwise.

Suddenly a message drone slips away from the Fogger, and rapidly accelerates in-system toward Grayson itself. It bears a simple message to the high command of the Grayson Navy.


To: The Most Honorable and Distinguished Admiral Christopher Westerman, Grayson Navy
From: Fregattenkapitan Cert Malschaert, Commanding the HMS Fogger

Sir,

It would be an utmost honor if you would join myself and my officers for dinner onboard the Fogger at 1800 this evening. This invitation is also extended to an appropriate number of your own officers to be selected with your discretion.

Emperor Alexis put the letter he'd just read very slowly and carefully onto his desk. "Are they serious, Alfred?" All of the eyes of the Imperial Cabinet, and those of his Majesty swung toward the Grand Duke. "Yes, Your Majesty. I do believe they are. The details will still have to be hammered out, but the basic outline is there in the letter."

Vernii was annexing Erewohn. More importantly, Vernii was annexing Erewohn with its government's consent, a very important thing considering the Erewohnese penchant for ridiculous weapons of mass destruction, and the will, even eagerness, to use them.

The Treasury and Commerce Ministers were the first to smile, broad smiles at that, at the thought of what controlling two more wormhole terminii would do to increase Vernii's prosperity. The Minister of War wasn't smiling, those same terminii were going to be two more gaping vulnerabilities to protect, especially since one of them linked to an Ortagan system, but the Erewohnese did have a powerful fleet for their size.

Duke Arthur Bergren, Minister of War and son of the late Ronald Bergren, former Secretary of Defense for the old People's Republic, spoke up. "Well, don't keep us in the dark Alfred. So what are the basic terms they've agreed to so far?"

"Well, if it goes through, His Majesty would assume the title of Primero, and the current Primero Holtzman would become Grand Duke Holtzman. The Grand Duke would mostly retain control over administration of the system and its policies as System Governor, but His Majesty would have the power to overrule him on any decision that is contrary to Imperial policy. Erewohn's junction terminii and their stationary defenses are placed under our direct control, but the Grand Fleet is retained as a system defense force, with its chain of command and units seperate from the Imperial Navy for the most part, but subordinate in times of crisis."

The Minister of Health certainly wasn't smiling. "You do realize we're going to have a massive human-rights crisis on our hands right? After all, their government doesn't consider its populace to be citizens, they are "human resources", something to be toyed with and manipulated. We all know the Erewohn that our tourists see, the glitzy hotels and white beaches, that that isn't the real Erewohn. The real Erewohn is the prison camps and political re-education facilities, and we're going to be left with the task for caring for thousands of people that are going to be released because the "crimes" they committed probably won't be crimes under Imperial law."

Alexis bit his lip slightly in thought, "Well...we'll deal with that mess when we come to it. The annexation isn't official yet, so we don't have to worry about fixing their problems -- yet."

The comm chatter had been ignored at first. So much garbage and noise came from the Federation's systems. It all managed to drift to the southern rim of the Talbott Cluster where the Greater Republic of Nephtali made its home. More specifically, the transmissions were picked up on the listening posts near Citadel System, the industrial and military center of Nephtali.

Seamus Raven sat in his dim office behind a large wooden desk, dark brown and ancient. He looked over the datapads coming in. "Production down in the Industrial Sector" one read. "Blast it. I swear. Those workers from Mesa are giving out early" he said looking at the young woman laying across lavish cushions set out in front of the near wall. Her wrists were cuffed with thin, long chains to the wall. She nodded back silently. He continued to look over the reports scattered across his desk. 'What's this?' he thought, reaching down to something that caught his eye. 'A terminii...?' he said in disbelief as he reached over and activated a channel to his assistant outside. "Call the council together. We have matters to attend to. I'm leaving for Monica in an hour." He glanced back over at the woman. "Behave while I'm gone and I'll bring you something nice." He had grown fond of her, moreso than his other slaves. He got up from the large desk, gathering a few datapads before leaving.

In general the government of the Star Empire did not address matters involving the "Great March" of the Raumreich--in reality the name the Hegemony of New Ortaga called the vast realm it said was its "perrogative". Only when the Ortagans threatened Valinor, and on occassion Vaku, interests did Her Majesty's Government tend to debate the hell that was Ortagan space. But with the Ortagan Hegemony being the only other nation in the Liga der Raumreich holding veto power, these concerns went largely unaddressed--officially at least.

Unofficially was a different matter entirely. The Star Empire had at long last started to turn its back on its erstwhile ally. The technological transfer so common between the Ortagan and Valinor states had been shut down a decade ago, and the Star Empire's economic interest in the artifically stabilized Ortagan economy was certainly waning. No point proved that more than the increasingly hard time the Ortagan government had trying to secure yet another of its infamous loans from the various Valinor banking circles.

And the unofficial addressing of affairs within the "Great March" transcended just the cloak room policies of the Congress of Lords, or the politely barbed conversations in the Imperial Court, the press of the Star Empire--backed by a substantial portion of the citizenry--often made up for the government's lack of volume and protest. The annexation of Erewohn by the Imperium of Vernii was the newest in a long line of issues the various newsnets and faxes caught on to. Cries rang from across the various Dominions of the Star Empire, saying that Verniian actions were foolish and would certainly bring the inevitable and unyielding wrath of the Ortagan Hegemony down upon them. The Centrist-leaning faxes and publications once again said that it appeared the Verniians were still foolish, and would be better off under the "benevolent" and "wise" administration of the Star Empire. And once again, Baron Gunther von Richter was caught by the press to say that the "bastard step-children" would soon "reap the harvest of their own gross stupidity." The United Valinon News Network ran a political cartoon that won notable acclaim to its vast audience. It depicted the Verniian three-headed dragon, with one head choking while trying to swallow a world labeled Boroglian, another choking on a world labeled Erewohn, and the last head being threatened by a crazed-looking Hegemon Ansel wielding a massive butcher's axe.

The noble members of the Congress of Lords shook their heads or quietly laughed in private. They were sure the Verniian action would ultimately end in a failure for the relatively new Verniian government. Certainly there was nothing economic to gain from annexing Erewohn, trade with New Ortaga was laughable. And the Ortagans had largely turned the sector of space around Erewohn and Thetis into nothing but a playground for their vast military. A civilian population was a laughable thing to expect, especially since the Ortagans would most likely lock down the terminii that connected with Erewohn. The Hegemony was rapidly becoming the ultimate example of a military that just happened to own a state, and a state that was crumbling around its militant overlords at that.

Secure in the safety of the Deep Inner Marches and the Gregor Sector, the "Great Lion" eyed the transferral of power in Erewohn with only a momentary glance. And once it was reassured that its security at the top of the Raumreich was still unchallenged, it once again turned back to its slumber. If the Verniians and the Ortagans wished to eliminate each other in a great swath of death, it would barely make a tremor in the Star Empire.

Grand Palace, Farben, Erewohn

Primero Holtzman was giddy. Typically this boded ill for those around him, since it usually meant there was about to be an execution or something like that. This time it wasn't though. The fools had blindly accepted his first offer, not even attempting to bargain for more power, but it's not like he was about to point that out to them.

Typical Verniian naivety, but that was alright with him. He certainly agreed to the terms he'd drawn up, and now all that was left was signing the agreement that they had so nicely consented to.

He took out a pen and signed the document in front of him, and then carefully folded it up and handed it to the official courier to deliver it to the Verniian emperor. As of this moment, he was now Grand Duke Holtzman, Erewohn System Governor.

"Hyper emergence in twenty seconds Sir."
Commodore Blackwell buckled his command chair's safety harness out of habit. Sometimes routine transits could end up being a bit rougher then expected.

The deck vibrated slightly, and the familiar wave of light nausea passed through him, and dissipated as quickly as the vibration.

"Deploy the warships, have the squadron prepare for standard recon deployment."

The freighters doors slid open as the Geneva and her sisters floated through. Concorde took up a protective position ahead of the convoy, and her boat bay opened. A recon drone was gently kicked from it into space, brought up it's wedge a safe distance from the small cruiser, and headed in-system.

Admiral Westerman was tall for a Grayson he stood just under six feet tall, he wore closely cropped blond hair and had icy blue calculating eyes. He was obviously of Germanic descent which was rare among Graysons.

He considered the Valinor ship that loomed in shuttle's view screen, it was one of their smallest but still contained more firepower then a similarly sized ship of the Inner March's other navies, it was half the size of an Ares Class Heavy Cruiser, one of Grayson strongest ships, but carried at least three times its firepower. Yet, for all the comments of the Valinor Diet's Centrist party, Westerman knew that the relationship between the Valinor and the Federation would be one of mutual support.

It was the other powers of the Inner Marches he was worried about. The Ortagan Hegemon only a couple years ago overran the WIckian Commonwealth, much like they did Falasmayon before. This allowed them to annex the Southern "Great" March of the Raumriech bringing the Hegemony’s borders into close proximately with the Federation's own frontier.

What aid, support, or technology would the Hegemony sell to the enemies of the Federation namely Monica and Mesa. They would not sell it cheap but the Ortagan’s could not afford to pass up good money now could they? No this damnable wormhole has changed everything it would be all he could do to prepare his navy for the upcoming storms of the future.

His thoughts were averted as the shuttle shook as the thrusters reverse its acceleration brining it to a landing inside the Valinor ships boat bay.

"Multiple signatures breaking off from the convoy, Madam," comes the crisp report from the tactical coordinator, currently handling the operations of the Chimera's long-range Ferret-class reconnisance drones.

Ekaterina Tereshkova, mistress of Her Majesty's Battlecruiser Chimera eyes the tactical views with great interest.

"Do we have a profile from the center yet, Alexei?" she says, turning to her executive officer, referring to the combat information center deep within the bowels of the Chimera, and largely run by the ships full AI.

"Not as of yet, Ma'am," he says in stiff tones. "Initial readings without breaking the Ferrets stealth or communications silence with the Broadsword put the ships as a cruiser or light cruiser variant of unknown specification."

"Hiding warships within a freighter, ingenious," Tereshkova mummers. "How long before the approach our position?"

The Chimera had exited jump-space two days ago, slowly drifting sunward in the New Vermont system. Her escort, the destroyer HMS Broadsword, had done the same roughly three million kilometers off the battlecruiser's starboard bow. Given their time in the system, they were actually ahead of their recently arrived Verniian "opponents".

"Thirty million kilometers and closing, Kapitan. The cruiser riding point for the convoy is at twenty-seven million kilometers."

"Reading multiple launch from leading elements of the convoy. Recon drone headed in-system."

Alexei takes in a sharp hiss of breath.

"Comm," Tereshkova says calmly, "ready a drone courier, compress a report on the Verniian convoy and also load a message for the Ark Royal. The drone is to meet up with the Royal and tell Flottenkapitan Matarikis that he is to proceed onward to Yeltsin. Then I want it to continue back to file a report on this new freighter configuration the Imperial Navy is using to Pergamum."

"Aye, Ma'am."

"Helm, make ready to leave the system, bring us up to maximum acceleration after we clear the twenty-seven million kilometer mark with the Verniians. Guns?"

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"Ready an EMP painter missile for our Verniian colleagues. Send it and a few Dazzlers at them when we clear twenty-seven million kilometers. Set for detonation at one million kilometers ahead of their estimated position at the time of launch."

"Yes, Kapitan."

Tereshkova eyes Alexei's expression with an amuse smile, "Yes, Alexei, it is wise."

She says, continuing in the near whisper at her own station, "The Verniians need to be reminded that their operations in Ortagan territory do not go unnoticed. Nor will they be able to conceal anything from us for long."

"Of course, Kapitan."

"Chim," Tereshkova says, and the AIs avatar--a startling resemblance to the mytholgical Beast of Beasts from which it draws its name--appears, and bows its predatory head, "collect the Ferret drones."

"It will be done."

With that the drone courier erupts away from the Chimera, its gravimetric drives screaming to sensors. Meanwhile the battlecruiser itself, closely followed by its destroyer companion, moves to do the same. They both lay in a course that will take them diagonally in front of the approaching convoy's path.

**********

As Westerman's shuttle descends, a small side party quickly assembles. Malschaert stands with his second, Korvettenkapitan Aubrey. Both are in the painfully clean, starched, and pressed blue uniforms of the Kriegsmarine. The uniforms are trimmed with a piping of weaved gold and silver. Malschaert and Aubrey both wear the sabers conferred with their rank, and as typical with the blades of Valinor make they are not mere show pieces. Four eight-men squads of Sardaukar, regailed in full danger suits, stand smartly at attention as the shuttle's ramp descends. Their rifles snap into a parallel line with the frigate's bay's ceiling, silver bayonets gleaming, and gaze locked on one another from the aisle they create for the naval officers.

"The Fort"
Lagrange Point 2
In Orbit of Planet Burlington
New Vermont System

The "Fort" was the New Vermont system's militia home base in orbit of one of the three inhabited planets of the system. It was a roughly spheroid structure. The outside sphere rotated to produce gravity for the three interior rings, two smaller rings located at the poles of the station a lager one around its equator. There sat a half dozen ships in no particular formation around the station, the capital ships of the “Green Mountain Boys” and there were four more in a parking orbit around the systems third planet members of the Federal Picket assigned to the system. With a scattering of several vessels on patrol throughout the system.

Its small command and control center were three militiamen an officer and two warrants responsible for the flow of merchant traffic throughout the system, which had fairly regular merchants from the Rembrandt Trade Union. These merchants often came in singletons, and every couple months a Federal convoy would arrive, buy that was not due for a few more weeks at least so needless to say the Verniian Convoy's arrival was a shock.

"Hyper Footprint Ma'am right outside the hyper limit. I count nine ships at least, no way to tell their class at this distance, could be anyone, even the Mesans." A slightly balding beard man at the sensor console told the officer of the watch.

"Fekker, Rob launch the alert fighters, send them out there for a closer look at our guest, I want an entire squadron put on alert five. Open a hailing channel." Lieutenant Walker stated a little less then calmly.

"You’re live Ma'am."

"Unidentified contacts this is Lieutenant Walker of the New Vermont Militia, please state your purpose and intentions." she stated

"On the chip Ma'am."

"Send it" and the message was sent.

L'etoile Star System, Nouveaux Caledonia
3 weeks after the arrival of the Valinor delegation at Yeltsin's Star

The magnificent rainbow energies of hyperspace exploded outward from the Valinor frigate as it ripped a path back into realspace from the extradimensional nothingness in which it had been travelling. The energies were visible to every gravimetric sensor in the system, in the characteristic "hyper footprint" of vessels entering or leaving hyperspace.

Coming on a least-time course form Yeltsin's Star the frigate was hardly alone in entering Caledonian space that day. In fact, a 2 million ton freighter blasted its way into realspace a mere thirty seconds afterwards, of course the freighter took a month to make the same journey as the warship due to the simple flaw that it was not Valinor.

Registering the newcomer to to the system Le Centre Commande de Trafic Internationale sent out a standard query requesting name, transponder code, point of origin, and the star nation under whose flag it was flying. Fortunately, the computer wasn't programmed to notify it's human operators of the the irregular vessel, until after it recieved a response or a lack there of. The sudden appearance of an unidentifed warship in-system would have caused one hell of a mess.

"Give me a live transmission."

"Ready Sir."

"New Vermont Militia, this is Commodore Blackwell, commanding officer of the Verniian Imperial Navy's Talbott Expeditionary Squadron. Our intentions are peaceful, we've come to establish peaceful contact between the New Vermont system and the Imperium of Vern--"

"Gravitmetric signature! CIC positively identifies it as a standard Kriegsmarine courier drone."

Blackwell's head whipped toward the tactical plot, already displaying the red icon of the drone.

"Tactical, trace it immediately. Bring us to battle stations, alert the rest of the squadron."

He realized that the transmission was still live, and the New Vermonters had just heard everything that had just been said. With a curse, he cut the transmission.

Computers snapped through calculations, using the drones course and flight time to zero in on it's launching position, and marking out an area in which the ship that had launched it was probably located.

The recon drone turned lazily toward the target zone, bringing up its passive sensors as internal directives marked the area as of interest. A new command was received from the Concorde, triggering a flow of program executables and bringing it's active sensors online. Had the drone had a human mind, it would have contemplated refusing its order as potentially suicidal, but it didn't. Focused emitters turned toward the target area, and it's sensor system went to full active.

Westerman descended from his shuttle along with two of his fellow officers. They were dressed in the blue on blue uniforms of the Grayson Space Navy, and wore the high brimmed service covers. They wore the dress uniform whose heavy tunic was laden with medals and ribbons representing valor under fire and various service tabs.

Westerman approached the captain of the Valinor vessel and saluted him.

"Permission for my party and I to come aboard Fregattenkapitan?" He asked.

"The Fort"
Lagrange Point 2
In Orbit of Planet Burlington
New Vermont System

Walker ran over the Verniians words in her head and the panic in them. She also wondered why the Valinor would be in system, trade sure but why be so covert about it. She was relieved that there were only the two friendly nations present and over whatever animosity that they bore one another she much preferred them over the Monicans or Mesans.

"Vector the Allen to rendezvous with the Verniian convoy, assign the Star Furies flight to assist them. And let me know the instant you pick up that Valinor capital ship." She told her command.

Tereshkova hisses, "Guns cancel the firing sequence."

"Aye, Ma'am."

"We must go about this a different way. Chim, deploy a double network of communications disruption drones between the path of the Verniian warships and the New Vermont Militia ships and stations. Have the drones self-destruct systems rigged for ten minutes, and have them use full stealth. Comm, I want an encrypted tight-beam transmission linked to the Verniian lead cruiser once the disruption is deployed."

Twenty-four spherical drones, agile packages of sophisticated electronics and directional pulse projectors erupt away from the Chimera. They accelerate rapidly away from their parent vessel, guided by the electronic hand of Chim. The drones accelerate toward the Verniian convoy, bringing up their suites of stealth and ECM hardware and software to deflect the probing eyes of the Verniian sensors. One drone shell closes to twelve million kilometers, the other slightly over ten. Then they begin to bring their powerful jamming systems to bear, starting to scramble and corrupt the lines of communication between the Verniians and the Vermont militia.

"Active sensor thirteen kilometers off the Broadsword's port side, Ma'am. Verniian reconnaissance drone confirmed, with active sensors being brought online."

"Have Korvettenkapitan Renders paint it with a targeting profile. Chim, send in three of the Ferrets at maximum acceleration, full sensors. I want a full read out on those freighters, use an in-system jump to surprise our Verniian friends," her expression is wolfish.

"Right away, Kapitan," responds the battlecruiser's AI.

"Comm, upload an emergency message to the courier. Have it cancel the orders to the Ark Royal, I've had a change of heart. And after you send the tight-beam to the Verniians open a channel to the New Vermont System Traffic Control."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Tereshkova's eyes gleam as she dictates a message to the Verniians, and then sends it off. Then she nods to the comm officer, and activates the link to the New Vermont Militia.

"This is Kapitan zur Sternen Ekaterina Tereshkova, commanding Her Majesty's Ship Chimera, and her companion the destroyer Broadsword. I am operating as an attempt by Her Majesty's Kriegsmarine to cut back on piracy along the fringes of the Great March, and am willing to explain the presence of my command in detail to your commanding officer once the Chimera and the Broadsword move in-system. In order to file a full report of the occurences here in New Vermont-which thanfully appear to be benign at this time-I would like to have a full copy of all your non-classified traffic and sensor records from two days before the reception of this comm call. I would also like to alert you that the HMS Ark Royal, an Enigma-class carrier, and the rest of her task force will be entering New Vermont within twenty-four hours to join Grossadmiral Shen Tai's command in the Yeltsin's Star system as part of the cooperative terminus defense effort by the Star Empire and the Federation."

"Helm," Ekaterina Tereshkova says breaking the comm with relish, "lay a course for the Vermonter homeworld at three-quarters maximum accleration."

"Yes, Ma'am. Three-quarters maximum acceleration."

A series of small distortions and explosions warp space between the Valinor and Verniian warships as the jamming drones self-destruct. Then suddenly the mass and energy distortions of Verner jump engines being engaged explode onto sensors at three seperate points, each roughly twenty-nine million kilometers way from the Verniian task force. Seconds later three coordinated exit signatures appear 235 degrees below the central axis of the Verniian convoy at less than two million kilometers. Three Ferret class drones race toward the Verniian convoy at over 900 gravities. Their active sensors scream across space, all their available eyes and ears centered on the Verniian convoys, and a live feed maintained to the Chimera as they race onward in a course that will take them quite literally through the Verniian formation.

The HMS Chimera and the HMS Broadsword drop their stealth and their active ECM systems and reorient themselves on a course farther in-system. Their acceleration begins to build, even as several more Ferret drones slip off their cloaks of electronic stealth and make for "home". The courier drone, receiving it's update engages its own Verners and slips into jump-space.

**********

Context of message to the Verniian task force


To: Commodore Blackwell, Commanding the Verniian Talbott Expeditionary Force
From: Kapitan zur Sternen Ekaterina Tereshkova, Commanding HMS Chimera
Re: A Simple Fact

Commodore Blackwell,

The history of the Imperium where the Star Empire is concerned is to try to attack the reputation and interests of Her Majesty, Her Majesty's Government, and Her Majesty's Kriegsmarine. To do this incidents and twisted and propaganda created. Know this, if you make any such attempt in regards to this particular encounter--either personally or your respective superiors--I will see to it personally a copy of your exit vector reaches Office of the Strategos in Axis. I do not think that Roum will be pleased to learn where your exit vector puts your point of origin at, especially considering its proximity to several vitally important Ortagan military installations.

**********

Malschaert returns Westerman's salute and also a deep nod of respect to the Grayson admiral.

"Admiral, it is a pleasure and an honor to be able to host you and your party on my ship. You are welcome to come aboard anytime you would like. I only hope you find our hospitality up to standards."

"Allow me to introduce Korvettenkapitan Winston Aubrey, my executive officer," Aubrey is a thin man with a shock of red hair, he salutes Westerman with a well-maintained grace. "And Hauptmann Lzu-Tao, commanding our Reichswehr detachment."

The Sardaukar officer wears a uniform of charcoal grey trimmed in black. His chest is adorned with several medals, and a small company of campaign and operation tabs. He salutes Westerman as well, and offers a gruff nod of his own. A pale, thin line of discoloration traces down from just below his temple to disappear under the collar of his uniform.

**********

While the Raven's Artificial Intelligence, Standardized (AIS) forwards the basic relevant information to the Caledonian Le Centre Commande de Trafic Internationale, a broadcast directed toward the central station of the Caledonian traffic controller bureau goes out.

"This is Fregattenkapitan Isola, commanding Her Majesty's frigate Raven. I am here on a matter of utmost importance on behalf of Her Majesty's, and am currently carrying a direct representative of House Alderman to confer with the royal government of Caledonia. At this time I am not at liberty to discuss any further details with officials outside the Caledonian Ministry for Foreign Affairs, or appropriate office of state. Finally, I am here to update the Kriegsmarine's astro-charts and data regarding the L'etoile system on behalf of the Star Lords of Her Majesty's Admiralty."

Westermen smiled as he greeted the two officers Malschaert introduced.

"A pleasure two meet you both and it is an honor to be here. These are important times we are participating in one in which the friendship of our two nations is cemented i hope." he stated before he indicated the officer to his left.

"This is my Aide Commander Janet Cheng," a young short woman with Asian features. "And Captain William Corwin, who commands a Heavy Cruiser division soon to be deployed to the Southern Territories to keep an eye on the Monicans." He was barreled chested man whose bulk and muscle hid his gentle nature, both officers step forwards offering their hands to the Valinor officers.

"Well Fregattenkapitan perhaps it is time to see about that hospitality you've so graciously offered?"

OOC: will post on vermont tomorrow night

OCC: I must apoligize for my inability to interact so far. I'll me try again...

IC:

The Vegetables realises that its being around the wormhole terminus any more, which is, in the eyes of the AI and crew, quite sufficently mapped, is totally pointless and contrary to its exploratory task. They didn't have the largest sensors arrays in a fair radius for nothing!

And therefore, they decide to visit the Grayson system, to perhaps trade their new maps and other commodities for whatever would keep the crew entertained.

And so, in a brilliant flash of light and radiation, although most of the radion is not detectable by human eyes, the Vegetables hyperspaces to Grayson, and, after a few minutes spinning in nothingness, emerges just outside the system.

"Attention Grayson system control, this is RGSV Vegetables requesting port accomodation, over."

OOC: LRR sorry been busy with work 11 hours a day so i havent replied to ur posts as i only had time to give it to val but will reply soon.

OOC: LRR sorry been busy with work 11 hours a day so i havent replied to ur posts as i only had time to give it to val but will reply soon.

OCC: Ok. Its no problem.

New Vermont System

With the potentially violent incident averted the militia and the Federal task groups stood down from alert. Things since had returned to what could be considered normal for any system in the Federation. The incident would be reported to the other militias and the Federal "Navy", and any information asked by the Valinor would be given to them of course.

Not many in the Federation would believe the story told by the Valinor captain, it seemed a touch too convenient. It was the opinion of some of those in the Federation that the politics of the Inner Marches should remain there and not in the Cluster.

But what could the Federation do? Not much at this point, what could they do...nothing was the answer.

Yeltsin's Star

"LRR vessel you are cleared for a parking orbit over Grayson, your crew should they request shore leave is welcome to the hospitality offered in the orbital stations. Our navigational data of the terminus of the Wormhole has been provided to us by the Valinor. Enjoy your stay in the Federation.

Westermen smiled as he greeted the two officers Malschaert introduced.

"A pleasure two meet you both and it is an honor to be here. These are important times we are participating in one in which the friendship of our two nations is cemented i hope." he stated before he indicated the officer to his left.

"This is my Aide Commander Janet Cheng," a young short woman with Asian features. "And Captain William Corwin, who commands a Heavy Cruiser division soon to be deployed to the Southern Territories to keep an eye on the Monicans." He was barreled chested man whose bulk and muscle hid his gentle nature, both officers step forwards offering their hands to the Valinor officers.

"Well Fregattenkapitan perhaps it is time to see about that hospitality you've so graciously offered?"

OOC: will post on vermont tomorrow night

Westerman, Cheng, and Corwin are escorted by Malschaert and his two subordinates toward the captain's mess. Along the way, Malschaert briefly explains the layout and design of the Fogger. The frigate's interior has an air of spartan elegance to it, a design that quietly speaks of the power laying in its subdued form. Perhaps the most interesting feature Malschaert mentions about his command is the fact that with full supplies, the Fogger and her numerous sisters are capable of operationg for almost two years without resupply. One of the many reasons the Lion-class frigate has become the long-distance work horse of the Kriegsmarine.

Several minutes later, Malschaert opens a door and the dinner party steps into a room with a long ovid table that is made of some dark wood. The table is flanked by several plain, yet comfortable chairs, and it is set with elegant silverware and china-as well as several long-stemmed wine glasses that have the crest of the Kriegsmarine etched into them with some unknown, yet no doubt painstaking process. A man dressed in a subdued uniform stands across the room with a young obermaat, whose expression is of forced calm. And despite his forced demeanor, it is quite clear the young man is nervous as hell.

"Please have a seat," Malschaert says to his guests, and he waits hands on the back of his own chair as they drift toward the others. "Admiral, if you would do me the honor?" he gestures to the chair to his right.

"I am sure you find our tableware a bit...pretension, Admiral. Which is why I have invited Obermaat Jerricks to assist in the dinner, as well to explain our traditions."

The young obermaat swallows hard, "It has become a custom in the Kriegsmarine for a vessel's officers to furnish the table of each warship. And to make it worthy of any visitor, from one of state, to one of the Great Star Lords, and perhaps to even Her Majesty herself."

He pours a deep red wine with a slow hand, careful not to spill any, "The Fogger has been very fortunate in regards to its table. The original frigate of the name served His Majesty Emperor Gustav Alderman I during the earlier years of the Outer Dominion Wars. During the course of its service, the frigate saved the imperial yacht from a surprise attack by Lion Clan raiders in its journey between Pholus and Proxima Centauri. His Majesty repaid the original Fogger's outstanding service to him by adding its name to the Honor List of the Kriegsmarine, and by adding to its table personally."

"In fact," Jerricks seems not to breath as he pours Lzu-Tao's glass, "His Majesty had the table you now sit at commissioned."

Now that the Graysons are seated they can see the subtly pattern worked into the well-polished surface of the table. It is the crest of House Alderman, constructed of small pieces of wood only a few shades lighter than the rest of the surface.

"And the silverware was crafted by the personal Guilds of House Alderman in New Koln," indeed the well-fashioned silver bears the same crest, elegantly stamped into the end of the handle of each piece. The Aldermans' craftsmen have long been noted for their metal-work, especially the swords--which are prizes sought throughout the Empire and rarely awarded.

"Thank you, Mr. Jerricks. You did an excellent job," Malschaert says with a nod, concealing a smile as he raises his glass and swirls its contents. "The rest of our dining service is an assembly accquired over the years of the Fogger's history. My own addition was the wine glasses, and I have an excellent craftsmen in the Dominion of Pelledrine to thank for them."

He sets down his glass with care as he enjoys his first sip, "Ah, dragonfruit wine. Certainly one of the finest products from Outer Centauri. It's bite makes it worth keeping. I do hope, Admiral, that you will find mere steak and potatoes acceptable fare. Stewart Anderson was aghast that I would dare suggest such fare for this particular meal, but I believe that you will have your fill of our home nation's more cultured taste in meals soon enough."

**********

As the Chimera and the Broadsword prepare to enter into an orbital pattern over Burlington, a series of distortions warp the space of the mid-system of New Vermont. From the blue-white vortexes of energy emerge nine ships. The bulk of a Enigma-class carrier, glittering in the night of space, is followed closely by a single heavy cruiser. A trio of frigates form up around the carrier and the cruiser, and four destroyers complete the task force.

A few minutes later a system-wide broadcast goes out, "This is the HMS Ark Royal of Her Majesty's Kriegsmarine. Flottenkapitan Sherborne formally requests permission for the Royal and her companions to enter the New Vermont system and for an orbital holding pattern over Burlington. Our intent here is to arrange shore leave for our ships crew before proceeding to Yeltsin's Star."

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" A roaring laugh bellowed from Westerman, it was not the sort of thing one would expect from the head of an entire navy, but it was a genuine laughter nonetheless. "By the tester you are right about that Fregattenkapitan, I do not doubt you are right about that."

He then waved a hand at the Valinor captain, "Please let me explain my outburst?" he asked before continuing. "I am like you Fregattenkapitan a navy man born and bred, as my father and his father's father. I've given my life to the service, those who I command are like the children I will never have. I have been in the navy since I was sixteen in that time I've had many tours aboard warships, and it’s quite a different experience than this I assure you!" He stated as he sipped the wine. "It is a delicious vintage Fregattenkapitan."

Then he continued,

"When aboard ship I have become accustomed to eating nutrition paste out plastic tubes, as we float from place to place, in micro gravity and strapping ourselves into our racks to sleep. No, sitting down enjoying steak and potatoes is quite enough for my old bones."

He paused for a second and looked at the Valinor Captain.

"If there is one thing an old veteran like me recognizes above all else is the sacrifices of those who came before, this table and this ship is a testament to your service and your people's bravery and professionalism under fire. We Grayson’s too have a similar practice in our navy, but everyone who a citizen in the Federation holds the same devotion to a single sheet our paper, the Declaration of Freedom which gives us our freedom from bondage and has declared genetic slavery Illegal." His eyes darkened as he thought of the evil practice and those beyond the Southern Territories that practiced it.

"And while we dine between fellow naval officers I insisted that you drop the 'Sir' nonsense call me Chris or West." It was a sign of trust, friendship, and comradeship to call an officer by his first name in the GSN, it could be taken as the Admiral's view on the Kriegsmarineas a new ally.

A frosty smile crosses the face of Lzu-Tao, and judging from the way his face twists it is as close to amused and happy as the Sardaukar officer ever will come close to achieving. Some how Aubrey, obviously the most formal of the Valinor officers, manages to stop from choking on his own wine. Anderson's expression is impassive and professional, as to what that speaks none but Malschaert may truly know, and Jerricks smiles his own weak smile, amused but still very unsure if any true expression will result in the Stewart's future displeasure. Malschaert smiles on his own, even as his eyes drift toward Aubrey.

"Then let us hope when the time comes I will not have to eat like I'm attending a damned dinner reception in New Koln," mummers Lzu-Tao half under his breath, and eying the silverware with a professional born contempt.

Malschaert chuckles, "Very well, Chris. Perhaps you could address me as Cert in return?"

"We certainly share your feelings on genetic slavery, and other slavery in all its many forms. The Star Empire has made it known throughout the Raumreich of its opinions of the matter of genetic slavery."

Indeed the Star Empire had made its positions known on the issue of genetic slavery--it was banned by a direct imperial edict from the time of Gustav I. Typically those caught trying to care on this particulary trade found out that position generally ended with the punctuation of how quickly the nearest Reichswehr or Kriegsmarine officer could assemble a firing squad or rig a noose.

"I only wish certain nations within the Raumreich chose to join us at the table of sanity. The Vaku have their allegiance bonds and oaths, but by God even those servants bound eternally to the clans and the lowest of the Vaku society have rights! And the oaths that tie them are at least given willingly. If the majority of the Inner Marches had its way, the practice would be banned by an official mandate from the Liga der Raumreich. However, the damnable Hegemony blocks the attempt every time. Although I do not think the term slavery does what goes on in the Great March justice, and I doubt we see more than just the barest tip of the iceburg."

Certainly the Ortagan Hegemony did all it could to keep any news from inside their vast realm reaching the rest of the Raumreich--unless it was officially sanctioned by Ansel and his co-conspirators in Roum. But Ortagan resources and manpower had its limits. The images of Seljuk that had been splashed across the Inner Marches by desperate refugees a few decades ago where one example. The once peaceful world of Seljuk had been reduced to a ruin. The native population now lived in hovels and shattered cities, their faces staring into the eyes of the rest of the Inner Marches from that smuggled footage. And the officials of the Solar Army's and Navy's "occupation" lived like lords in the "secure sectors" of Seljukite cities, while its populations were forced into labor camps and to serve the eternal hunger of the Ortagan war machine.

And no one, not even the most ardent and hardened Centrists, could deny the rate at which non-Terran native populations within the Ortagan realm disappeared. The Wickians were not the only race to fall under the Ortagans' xenophobic bootheel. And even Valinor efforts to discover the fate of these damned souls had failed. In some areas where the Ortagan mining and production facilities had left worlds stripped bare, it was as if their original populace had never existed.

New Vermont System

With the potentially violent incident averted the militia and the Federal task groups stood down from alert. Things since had returned to what could be considered normal for any system in the Federation. The incident would be reported to the other militias and the Federal "Navy", and any information asked by the Valinor would be given to them of course.

Not many in the Federation would believe the story told by the Valinor captain, it seemed a touch too convenient. It was the opinion of some of those in the Federation that the politics of the Inner Marches should remain there and not in the Cluster.

But what could the Federation do? Not much at this point, what could they do...nothing was the answer.

Yeltsin's Star

"LRR vessel you are cleared for a parking orbit over Grayson, your crew should they request shore leave is welcome to the hospitality offered in the orbital stations. Our navigational data of the terminus of the Wormhole has been provided to us by the Valinor. Enjoy your stay in the Federation.


"They beat us to it," the captain says, disheartened.
"Roger that. We are inbound now."

The cruiser fires its ion thrusters, and heads towards Grayson. Several hours later, the cruiser arrives at its destination, and completes its docking manouvers with the station.

Maintainance robots get to work unloading packets of cargo, with the aid of AI-controlled robotic arms, and the captain looks for someone who he could negotiate a trade deal with. After all, with such a nice wormhole close by, between two relatively busy systems, the RGF could get quite a bit of cash plying the route. And after all, the RGF does boast some of the larger freighters. Gigantic spherical freighters can easily carry major components of space stations inside their huge volume, or ship components for that matter. In fact, the largest RGF freighter, the obscenely expensive yet incredibly big RGSV Jimi Hendrix could probably hold quite a few destroyers and escorts in its 40 square kilometers of cargo area.

OCC: Eh...what should I contact for a trade deal?

Commodore Blackwell's convoy assumed parking orbit over Burlington, the warships clustered protectively around the freighters, putting themselves between their charges and the warships of the Valinor Kriegsmarine.

Blackwell sat in his command chair, an aura of silent fury seemingly surrounding him after he'd received Kapitan zur Sternen Tereshkova's threat. Crewmen and officers went about their business around him, trying to avoid drawing his attention.

His executive officer approached and cleared his throat. "Sir, I ran a background information check on Captain Tereshkova. It seems that she's the Valinor captain responsible for the destruction of Endicott's orbital mirrors."

"So that's the bitch. We'll include this encounter in our next report to the Admilitary. Personally, I doubt that she'd be exactly willing to cause a major confrontation of any sort that includes the Ortagans, but then again, she is a holdover from Gustav II's little reign of terror, so she may not be firmly grounded in reality. Either way, we'll deal with her later."

Blackwell leaned back in his seat and sighed. "Oh well, put a transmission through to the Burlington government: This is Commodore Blackwell, commanding officer of the Talbott Expeditionary Squadron, representing the interest of the Imperium of Vernii. I've been sent to establish diplomatic relations with the government of this system, and assess economic potential."

OOC: LRR head to Rembrandt they are the center of trade with thier RTU...got a lot to post i see too.

IC:

A simple text transmission was sent to Blackwell and transmission was sent from the surface of the Planet to Tereshkova and Blackwell. It read as follows,

Friends of New Vermont,

You are all cordially invited to supper tonight at 1700 local time
to enjoy the hospitality of the system and also to discuss our future
relationship. Feel free to have your crews come down to Colchester
for any shore leave you deem necessary. The coordinates to the
dinner are attached to this message.

Alda Allen, Captain of the Vermont Militia.

OCC: I assume Rembrant is a system?

IC:

Pulling out of Grayson after selling off their cargo of various stuff (who knows what can end up in the cargo bay of an independent cruiser after a lengthy voyage?), the Vegetables, outfitted with marvelous sensors arrays, heads towards the system hyper-limit. After all, you can't just crack off an RGF-pattern long-range hyperspace drive in the middle of a populated system.

It would be disastrous!

Anyway:

With the old earth band String Cheese Incident playing over the ship PA, one of the jam bands that robots tend to enjoy listening to, the ion thrusters are fired and the ship sent on its way. Apparently, Rembrant was the place to negotiate a trade deal properly.


Meanwhile, at the New Vermont terminus, the freighter/escort Desert Dawn exits hyperspace, on a trade mission with the system, more specifically to ask permission to use the wormhole.

The RGSV Desert Dawn is one of the fleet's newer vessels, measuring about 500 meters from tip to tail, and with generally spartan crew accomodations. As opposed to the dedicated design of the independent cruisers, with large allotments of space for science, engineering, cargo, and weaponry, the smaller size and less independent nature of the freighter/escorts necessitates the use of mission modules that fit more easily with their smaller size and boxy shape.

The Desert Dawn in particular is configured with mostly cargo bays in its mission module slots, and some are left empty, configured to accomodate tanks of gasses as opposed to bulk cargo or ore.

OOC: LRR New Vermont is a system but not the one with the wormhole. the system with the wormhole is yeltsin star. Ill post a map soon...I gtg i need to work today maybe around 2 pm est it will be up

OOC: LRR New Vermont is a system but not the one with the wormhole. the system with the wormhole is yeltsin star. Ill post a map soon...I gtg i need to work today maybe around 2 pm est it will be up

OCC: Ok, sorry. I must apologize for my ignorance of your star systems. Just forget that second part for the time being.

"Well it is good to see that the Star Empire share's that belief with us." Westerman said affirming their views on genetic slavery. "However you have brought up the Ortagan Hegemony, their borders are getting ever closer to our own and they do not share our views on slavery, it is my fear that they may lend aid to the Federation's enemies. Needless to say we would like to equalize and tech increases on their side with tech transfers of our own, Cert. That is something I will ask of the new Space Lord when he comes to Yeltsin's star."

"Corwin's next patrol is in the Southern Territories, which are a collection of four Federal territories bordering Messian and Monican space, we have reports of increased activity on their part there and also in the nearby non-aligned worlds." He paused before continuing. "Trying times are ahead for us in the cluster but perhaps with out new relationship with the Star Empire we will overcome."

Friends of New Vermont,

You are all cordially invited to supper tonight at 1700 local time
to enjoy the hospitality of the system and also to discuss our future
relationship. Feel free to have your crews come down to Colchester
for any shore leave you deem necessary. The coordinates to the
dinner are attached to this message.

Alda Allen, Captain of the Vermont Militia.


Captain Allen,

I am honored to receive your invitation, and gladly accept.

Commodore Ian Blackwell.

1630 Local Time

The Commodore's pinnace slid smoothly out of Geneva's boat bay, folded out its manuevering fins, and began a gradual descent into the atmosphere.

***
The Imperial Palace, Cardona, Vernii.

Grand Duke Brydges entered into the Emperor's personal office with a smile on his face. "Your Majesty, I have received news that the wormhole between Yeltsin's Star and Alpha Centauri is open to shipping. We can finally acess the the Talbott Cluster directly, rather then running convoys through Ortagan space."

"That's excellent news, I presume you already have a head ambassador in mind?"

"Yes, he comes from a line of distinguished government officials from the Foreign Relations and Public Information departments of the old government, his name is Declan Newlin."

"Newlin eh? Wasn't there a prominent Legislaturist ambassador from that family?"

"Yes, he was personal friend of your father, tragically shot by seperatists on New Hope."

"So what's this Declan's current position?"

"Oh, he's employed in Boroglia right now, helping to peacefully integrate the more stubborn elements of the population. While he's been valuable there, I believe his career would benefit from a position that will be at the forefront of regional politics. If you approve, I can have his recall and transfer orders sent immediately."

"Approved."
***

Within the next two weeks, Declan found himself both bewildered at how fast events had occurred, a bit annoyed at how abruptly his government had decided it needed his services elsewhere, and packed into a heavy cruiser along with other members of Vernii's delegation to Yeltsin and the Federation. Worse, it was delegation that he was heading. Sure, it would be great for his career and prestige, but he'd never done anything like this before!

The heavy cruiser, he hadn't actually caught its name, he was more concerned with his baggage at the time, but he thought it's name was Trafalgar, or something along those lines, was on its way through Gregor (not even pausing for a brief stopover!), and at the moment was slowly cruising through the junction transit queue to Alpha-Centauri.

He was sitting at his desk, filling out the paperwork that inevitably accompanied a transfer, and took a peek out of his cabin's porthole. He couldn't see much, just metallic glints that were other starships or the fortresses the Navy had positioned around the junction. There was a momentary feeling of nausea and unsteadiness, and then it passed.

The Trafalgar popped into existence in Alpha-Centauri.

Malschaert nods his head in a sorrow-filled agreement taking a moment to conceal his arched eyebrows at Westerman mentioning the impending visit of Shen Tai, "Sadly there is little the Star Empire can do to stop the Ortagans from meddling in the Cluster, as long as they do not try overt expansionism into the Cluster that is. Although, I will tell you, Chris, that the Star Empire has noticed a sharp decline in the growth of the Hegemony's borders. In fact, it seems to have slowed to a stop since right before they absorbed the remnants of the Wickian Commonwealth in Thetis, and the Verniians annexing Erewohn seems to be keeping the Solar Forces preoccupied these days."

Malschaert notices the look of Aubrey across the table, and realizes he must act now before his second bursts at the Graysons some how discovering of Grossadmiral Shen Tai's impending visit to Yeltsin's Star. Malschaert is not all that surprised, the junction has already been opened to international traffic on a limited basis, and the Kriegsmarine has not exactly concealed the force it is building in Alpha Centauri. The Graysons did not appear to be a stupid people, merely a bit backward.

"I see you've heard of Grossadmiral Shen Tai's impending arrival in Yeltsin, though," Malschaert says and shoots his executive a glare from across his wine. The Sardaukar officer at the opposite end of the table almost, but not quite, chortles on his steak. "And as such you have stolen a large portion of my thunder. That was kind of my more....ulterior motive for inviting you to join me tonight. But I do have another bit of good news."

"I don't know how much of our Nu-space traffic you are watching these days, but I think the Centrists underestimate your capabilities to think your not listening at all. But just in case, I will make sure your ahead of this particular development. The Viscount Dosadi--one of the more open-minded of the United Lords coalition party--is moving to have a proposal put before the Lords. It has been dubbed the Dosadi Initiative, and in basic it means the Star Empire will not seek to actively expand into the Cluster. Plus the Star Empire will act as a steward on behalf of the Cluster to make sure that the rest of the Inner Marches do not attempt similar measures of formal expansion"

"You at least have that much to work with, Chris," Malschaert says. "And I will forward a recommendation to Grossadmiral Shen Tai when he arrives and I formally hand over command of our detachment to Yeltsin's Star to him in three days that I believe we should send an observer along with your deployment to the outlying Federal territories."

To: Captain Alda Allen, Vermont System Militia
From: Kapitan zur Sternen Ekaterina Tereshkova, Commanding Her Majesty's Battlecruiser Chimera

It would be both an honor and a pleasure to dine with the standing forces of the Vermont Militia. Korvettenkapitan McDaniels, commander of the HMS Broadsword, will also be attending as part of my command.


To: Captain Alda Allen, Vermont System Militia
From: Flottenkapitan Alec Sherborne, Commading Her Majesty's Carrier Ark Royal

I thank you for the dinner invitation, my colleagues in arms. But I would like to request that Kapitan zur Sternen Rhinehold, master of the HMS Caspian, be allowed to attend with me.

**********

The Lion of Valinon has in a way embarked on one of the long periods of introspection that have often followed after the Star Empire has concluded a major conflict, as it did for a few decades after the close of the Outer Dominion Wars. The lion sleeps, moving ever so often to raise its eyelids, then closing it again when it is content with the fact that the Star Empire's carefully delineated sphere of influence has not been annoyed.

But just because its own sphere of influence and power has not been challenged does not mean the Star Empire will not meddle in the affairs of those that border it in its contented slumber--far from that. As the Talbott Cluster is shoved to the forefront of international affairs in the Raumreich Oversector, the lion moves to prepare for the future it sees on the horizon. If the current government and the current opinion of the Star Empire will not allow for the continued growth of a formal empire, then no other nation shall be allowed to attempt this in the Cluster.

And so, fresh from the quagmire of the approval of the treaty securing the status of the Alpha Centauri/Yeltsin's Star wormhole terminus, the Congress of Lords prepares for a new battle. The Dosadi Initiative is a sweeping proposal, explicitly forbidding the Star Empire from expanding into the Cluster by formal means of annexation for no less than fifty years--unless it is directly petitioned by a state within the Cluster. At the same time, the Dosadi Initiative also names the Star Empire--in its typical self-adulated wisdom--as the steward of the Cluster in regards to interactions with the Inner Marches. In basic the Star Empire will act either alone or through the Liga der Raumreich to protect the nations of the Cluster from overt external imperialism. And finally, will act as the representative of interests to the Liga der Raumreich until such time that the states of the Cluster send their own delegations to the august, yet certainly anemic, international body that acts as a forum for the nations of the Raumreich.

However, the Initiative does not block the means of informal empire that now are the standard policy of the day in the Star Empire. In fact, it does not even address those particular elements, and still the battle between the Centrists--saying the Initiative ties the hand of the Star Empire too much for the sake of "erstatz principles"--and the United Lords--upholders of the Initiative--rages.

**********

"Order, the chamber will come to order at once!" Lady Diedre Rolt says with a note of vehement power due her office as the arguement between several of the more liberal members of the United Lords and the Greater Raumreich Party against the stalwarts of the Centrists and the Augustgrad Union spirals rapidly out of control. Silence slowly replaces the tenor of voices demeaning one another in Imperial German.

"Be seated, Ladies and Lords," she says with appropriate venom, "your time has expired."

Thankfully.

"The Chair now recognizes the Most Honorable Baron Ingram Doucet of Pholus."

"Thank you, My Lady Prime Minister," the short-statured Centrist says in formally polite tones.

"We have before us today, fellow colleagues of the robe, a measure that will damn the hand of progress and advancement in the Raumreich! To allow the Dosadi Initiative to pass will mean that we, we of the United Star Empire of Valinon, will tie our own hands in regards to the Talbott Cluster! To do so is an utter fallacy! To believe even for one moment that the so-called Imperium of Vernii or even the Ortagan Hegemony will stay its hand simply because of this measure is a fool's errand!"

Doucet continues, ignoring protests and attempts to redress him supporters of the Initiative, "We have to look no farther than the government systems of the Cluster! The barbarians of Mesa and Monica still go about the barbaric practice of genetic slavery! They still hold tight to an economy so feudal and backward in nature that it is a wonder they remain solvent. And this self-styled Federation is even worse by several measures! We cannot find a true authority because there is not one! It is a gaggle of useless bureaucrats and half-hearted member nations who cannot even forge a compotent central government! I have one question now for the First Minister of Foreign Affairs," Doucet turns to Adrian Sterling, eyes flashing.

"Duke Sterling, shall the Star Empire send one ambassador? Or ten? Or twenty? Or should we even bother with an ambassador at all when the government of the Federation is only a step away from anarchy? Perhaps the Caledonians are worth salvaging from this mess, but to dream that the Cluster will find its own way is nothing less than stupid. We must guide them to order, or they shall be swallowed whole by the Hegemony or the step-children of Gregor!"

Rolt slams her gavel, "Your time has expired, Baron. Be seated. Viscount Orsini, of the Dominion of Yalta, please rise and address the Chambers."

"Thank you, My Lady Prime Minister. On behalf of myself and many among the Greater Raumreich nobles, I would like to reinterate our support of the measure proposed by Viscount Dosadi and backed by the United Lords. To further extend the resources of our realm, Ladies and Lords, is to possibly condemn ourselves to the fate the Ortagans are rapidly making for themselves. That fate is to try and control a vast realm that is beyond any true means of control, and to bankrupt every means of power and prestige in the effort to do so. Let us not be consumed by the same desperate madness that consumes Roum...."

**********

Although the Trafalgar was cleared by the imperial junction traffic center in Gregor on the opposite of the controversial terminus, that does not stop it from being queried mercilessely by the operators of the far more vast Alpha Centauri center. Or prevent it from being battered with a host of sensor scans and prying inspections by drone eyes deployed by the Kriegsmarine around the terminus. A heavy cruiser is the largest warship the Star Empire allows the Verniian Imperium to transit through the wormhole terminii it holds control over, and many among the Kriegsmarine's upper echelons find even that far to generous. The old hatreds of the War of the Lion, and of the actions of the all but obliterated People's Navy of Vernii, have been transferred to its successor in the Imperial Navy of Vernii.

"Verniian warship, Trafalgar, this is HMSS Sanctuary Central Junction and System Traffic Control," says a cold, drilled voice, "you are hereby ordered to clear the terminus embark/disembark zone and proceed to the following coordinates being upload to your comm node. Once there you will cut your engines and wait for your escort to arrive. Once the escort has arrived at nav point 3345-Sigma you will proceed to the docking facilities near Saint Joseph, Prometheus Centauri, under no more than two-thirds of your full acceleration. Deviation from these instructions will result in the disabling of your capacity to move under power by any means necessary. Currently no transits through the Alpha Centauri/Yeltsin's Star terminus are being permitted by order Grossadmiral Lady Katherine Adonis, First Star Lord of Her Majesty's Kriegsmarine citing Imperial Junction Control and Standards Code, Section VIII, Sub-section XXII, relevant paragraphs. Protests may be filed with your appropriate diplomatic representative in Saint Joseph, who will forward them to the appropriate department."

The comm cuts of again, and the formidable array of weapons satellites, Mobile LRES drones, automated mobile system defense platforms, a host of drone fighters and bombers, and several ships of the wall tracks the movements of the Trafalgar, waiting for it to make just the slightest deviation in its directions.

"An observer would be welcome it will be good for others to see what we deal with out there, and any comments on how to improve the situation would be greatly appreciated." He commented to his Valinor friends.

He turned serious for a minute no one at the table could deny the ice that was in his voice now.

"No one doubts the ability of your navy Cert, but you are not from this area of space, some of you consider us in the Cluster as only neo-barbs at best. Do not let our backwardness fool you. If whomever you send out there for one instant believes that your navy's technological superiority will protect them from harm then they are dead wrong, and your people will die...do not take the Monicans or Mesians lightly!"

He now stared into the young captain’s eyes.

"I will not lie to you those two nations are technologically superior to my navy and have greater numbers. The Mesians may even be on par with some of the Inner March powers at least previous to your War of the Lion, its only a matter of time before they come for the Federation, do not underestimate them, also remember this one thing above all, Nothing is ever exactly what it seems out there." He finally concluded his speech.

Secluded in the countryside of Franklin County was the home of Captain Alda Allen, a short two and a half story rustic looking cabin, resting on a rise near a lake. To the south contained acres upon acres of pasture lands for his herd of cattle. A large bonfire lights the country side. Needless to say it was not the sort of place one would expect such esteemed guest to dine. There was an ample sized concrete pad below the cabin that would serve as a landing pad for any pinnaces.

Standing at the edge of this pad was Alda himself dressed in the simple green over grey uniform of the militia. He was 5'6'' tall and was built like a lumberjack and wore a thick beard on his face. He had just heard from the tower, three pinnances were inbound to the dinner.

Dropping out of hyperspace on the Rembrandt hyper-limit, the Vegetables makes for the inner system.

"Attention Rembrandt traffic control, this is the RGSV Vegetables. We request an audience with your government, over."

Never good at official diplomacy, watching an RGF representative navigate the process of negotiations is similar to walking up to someone and asking to eat their baby- awkward. The lack of much central government in LRR has bred an almost total disregard for standard conventions of diplomatic etiquitte. However, with a very large merchant fleet the RGF can always be useful in a tight spot.

And RGF head AIs would love to get their hands on that wormhole. A voyage that usually takes at least a day, by RGF freighters, could now be cut down to a miniscule fraction of the time usually taken. And with the prime spice suppliers and mining worlds (although the RGF relies on composite materials slopped together from the assortment of raw materials in The Neu Wirlde system) only a short hop from one of the Terminii, there could be quite a bit of money to be made along such a route.

Who the hell cares?
Does anyone actually have time to read this stuff?

Blackwell's pinnace landed gently on the concrete pad, settling its bulk onto its landing skids. The embarkation hatch swung open, a set of metal stairs unfolded from the inside, and Blackwell smoothly stepped down them onto the pad.

He paused for a second, trying to decide how best to greet Alda, and then finally settled for a salute, and "Good evening, Captain."
***

Trafalgar, not wanting to be blown away of course, followed the instructions given to it by STC to the letter.

Declan was glad for the disciplined handling of the ship, he certainly didn't want to die, and he breathed a sigh of relief as the ship settled into dock. Gloomily, he looked about his cabin, it was comfortable, but by no means spacious, and it looked like he was going to be stuck on the ship for an undetermined period of time. He sat back at his desk, started back to filling out his paperwork, and within thirty minutes was putting on his nu-space headset and logging into the network instead.

"Aye it tis' at that friend!" The bearded man said looking up at the night's stars. "Two of those ought to be our next guest, the Valinor guests i mean."

He paused a moment before continuing,

"There is a keg of ale or hard cider in the house, the Lieutenant here will show you the way, its good stuff by the way."

"They're what!" exclaimed Jean Fontaine the Senior Officer of Caledonia Central Traffic. The news of the wormhole had only broken a week before and much of the country was still in a stir as to what exactly these newcomers would be interested in, or want.

"Clear them for pasage immediately. Tell them that they may proceed at their leisure to berth...12-B, and that we are ready to recieve them. And for God's sake get me a line to Planetside, they need to know that we've got visitors.

Jean-Michael's reaction was roughly the same as that of the officers at central traic control ad was most unbecoming the sovereign of a star nation.

"They're what...here!!??" he exclaimed. "Stephen get in here!" he shouted into his desk comm. The hurried foreign minister rushed into the room within seconds, clearly he had already been on his way.

"I heard sire, a Valinor frigate in-system." he said before the king could speak. "Thank god we've already signed the Junction Treaty."

"Indeed Stephan, indeed. Still, this is the first official Valinor delegation to arrive at L'etoile, and we will show them all the hospitality which they deserve. Get the royal shuttle cleared for departure, and then be ready to depart, we will meet these representatives aboard Forteresse and recieve them there before taking them on a tour of the city and to the palace. Make sure to send them a message inviting their representative and the captain of the vessel to dinner, and of course both of their relevent entourages may attend."

"They're what!" exclaimed Jean Fontaine the Senior Officer of Caledonia Central Traffic. The news of the wormhole had only broken a week before and much of the country was still in a stir as to what exactly these newcomers would be interested in, or want.

"Clear them for pasage immediately. Tell them that they may proceed at their leisure to berth...12-B, and that we are ready to recieve them. And for God's sake get me a line to Planetside, they need to know that we've got visitors.

OCC: Is this to me?

I apologize for cluttering up this RP with OCC postings, as it is otherwise a very good and interesting RP with the quality present in most other Raumreich et. co. threads. I don't think that I have managed to stay quite as well informed as I should have.

IC:

Via the sub-etha net, news of the wormhole reaches RGF merchant ships and the spice mining worlds just outside the star cluster. (Yes, a not-so-subtle Dune allusion...spice mining worlds, I mean. It seems to fit, with the Sardaukar and such...more or less).

Before long, several freighter/escorts prepare to make the journey to the Yeltsin's Star terminus with cargo bays loaded with spices, although none of the coveted Melangue.

ooc: that was for valinon LRR

The slender shuttles of the Kriegsmarine carve their way through the atmosphere and then rapidly accelerate toward Allen's retreat. The two craft descend on the concrete pad in a drilled unison, and a few moments later this disembarkation ramps descend with a smooth elegance.

Ekaterina Tereshkova appears first. She wears her blue uniform with its gold-and-silver weave piping with a certain air of arrogance. Her deep raven black hair is pulled back into a braided ponytail, a privelege of rank, and dark, Slavic eyes stab into the world with an unholy amount of intelligence and cunning. With her bold posture she makes no effort to conceal the host of campaign buttons and operations tabs adorning her uniform, quite a few that come from the Star Empire's Gregor "excursion". True she is small in terms of height, and is a thin knife of a woman, but she makes up for it by the sheer presence of her will and personality. Next to her, Korvettenkapitan McDaniels is a non-entity, a dour man obviously plodding his way through the ranks of the Kriegsmarine by going "by the book."

The other pair of officers Tereshkova is busy cutting her way through the world to are also an unlikely match. The older, taller of the two has a long, waxed mustache and would have looked just at home on the bridge of a "wet-navy" battleship blasting away at opponents during Old Earth's First World War. The four diamons of gold set in neat even spacing on his silver epaulets mark him as Flottenkapitan Alec Sherborne. His careful demeanor and cool gaze mark him as one of the old creatures of the Star Empire's navy, a man of the Great Dominion of Alpha Centauri, and probably from the Vaterland of the Valinor itself. Kapitan zur Sternen Isaac Rhinehold is a Yaltan by birth, who has worked his way through the Kriegsmarine rapidly. His is a career marking the battle of patronage and preference inside the Star Empire, as the Dominions of the Greater Raumreich vie with the entrenched nobility and society of Alpha Centauri for their place in the fabric of Valinon. The four exchange a few words in Imperial German briefly and then approach Allen.

"Good evening," Sherborne says in cultured tones, "Captain Allen. I apologize for our slight tardiness."

Obviously Sherborne exercised his rank to become the leader of the party, but it is quite clear from Tereshkova's expression and presence right beside him that it is not an exercise without a major of struggle.

**********

"My Lady," Isolda says, bowing as Princess Katherine sweeps into the main room of her loaned cabin from the bedroom, "we have been cleared for berth at the Caledonian station of Forteresse and shall have completed docking procedures momentarily."

"Excellent," the Princess of Madras says in pleasant tones, finishing drying her hands on the towel she is holding. The single maidservant she brought with her, a Dominionite by her ethnicity, stands at a respectful distance behind her mistress. "Thank you, Kapitan Isolda. Tell me, did you also receive and invitation?"

"Yes, My Lady," Isolda says, suppressing a deep sigh. Being drawn into the intrigues of diplomacy was one of the farthest things from her mind when she had taken command of the Raven three years ago.

Katherine nods, "Good, good. It appears the Caledonians are also a people of culture. Oberstleutnant?" she says to the Protector who had followed Isolda in.

"Princess," he salutes and stands at attention.

"Have your men ready to go aboard Forteresse at once. I do not wish to keep the Caledonians waiting."

"At once, My Lady," he turns crisply on one heel and leaves the room.

"Will you be able to attend with the delegation as well, Kapitan?" Katherine says, pouring a glass of water from a picture and watching Isolda carefully as she takes a sip.

"Of course, My Lady. I will need a few moments to make sure the Raven is properly docked then I will be at your disposal."

"Thank you," Katherine says with a smile, "your cooperation is appreciated, Kapitan. And the expediency with which you brought me to L'etoile is commendable."

Both were expected of me, Isolda thinks quietly to yourself.

"If I may, My Lady?"

"Of course, attend to your duties, Kapitan," the princess says, Isolda bows again and leaves.

**********

"I doubt very seriously the Star Empire will set idle if the slavers start to overwhelm the Federation," Malschaert says, obviously to reassure Westerman, but some how it rings with sinister overtones. "And most certainly Grossadmiral Shen will not allow it while he commands our forces in the Cluster."

"Rest assured, Admiral," Aubrey speaks for the first time, "we are updating our intelligence on the Cluster. But so far we believe the only nations the Mesans and the Monicans may have been able to secure technology from is the Hegemony. And I doubt very seriously they would employ the Hegemony's weapons for fear they would destroy themsel-."

Aubrey is cut low by a glare that could have ruptured bulkheads on any warship of the Inner Marches from Lzu-Tao.

"Opponents are never as vulnerable as they are believe to be," he says in cool tones.

Malschaert clears his throat, and eyes the remnants of the last course before him and the rest of the diners.

"Perhaps a cup of coffee or tea and then we could give you a tour of the bridge, West?" Malschaert says, signaling to Anderson once again.

A few hours after the docking of Raven a welcoming party awaited the debarkment of Princess Katherine and her companions. As the princess crossed the threshold, and incidentally became the first Valinor representative ever to step onto Caledonian territory, the delegation bowed formally and one man stepped forward.

"My lady, I am George-Louis Leclaire, Le Duc de Normandie et Premier Ministre to the king, and may I be the first to welcome you to Nouveaux Caledonia. My king wished me to convey his most sincere apologies for not being here in person to greet you, but he has been detained momentarily on matters of state. The arrival of yourself and your countrymen in the Cluster has caused quite a stir, and I'm afraid that some of us have still not quite recovered yet."

If I may, I would like to introduce my companions." he said gesturing to the three people standing just behind him. "My Lady, may I introduce Jean-Baptiste Robespierre Admiral de Flotte, et Chevalier de la Royaume, Ordre de Louis the highest ranking officer of our Navy." Leclaire indicated a slightly balding man apparently in his mid-fifties wearing the gold trimmed black uniform and beret of the naval service.

"Anne Margot Conseillier de Securite Nationale to the King." The comparatively young woman nodded respectfully at her introduction. She was strikingly beautiful with Auburn hair and green eyes, that belied and intellect and natural ability beyond her appearance.

"Finally we have Le Seigneur de la Payee BasqueMatthieu Carousel." Leclaire said indicated the final memeber of his entourage; an unimpressive looking man the air of a sharp businessman. "Seigneur Carousel is the king's Ministre du Commerce."

"There will be one other joining us for dinner, aside from the king. Stephan Natan is Le Duc du Calelle and serves as the king"s foreign minister."

"This beating around the bush is getting us nowhere!" yells an RGF admiral, dressed up in his ornate parade uniform, complete with a cape, or rather a fine Oriental rug sewn into the shoulder plates.

"We need contact if we are to use this wormhole!" he yells, sending his coffe cup hurtling across the room for dramatic effect.

Without further delay, a message is shot off to the Valinor government asking for an audience concerning the use of the wormhole to Yeltsin's star. A major part of this audience would be to re-establish diplomatic relations with the old Star Empire, which were strained during the final stages of the war against Vernii. Wormhole access, while important, is not as important as getting on Valinon's good side.

Topics that interest the RGF are this issue of genetic slavery, New Ortaga, a nation that causes The Neu Wirlde much worry, and of course trade agreements.

Therefore, the cruiser Amandrai is made ready for a diplomatic visit, once it comes out of berth.

West finishes his cup of Earl Gray, then looks to Cert as the gathered officers chatted about various unimportant matters,

"Well I'd say its time for that tour?" he asked of the Valinor officer.

---

Allen finished his pint of stout, his stomach filled with the venison that was served as a main course. He wiped his beard clean of any bits of food with his napkin.

He looked at the Valinor's head officer,

"I do hope you've enjoyed the dinner sir" then he looked at the Imperium officer "As well as you my friend.

---

Katherine Alderman nods politely to the officer and the government officials Leclaire introduces, and then turns back to the Duke.

"Your Grace, no apologies were necessary. My visit was not exactly official announced, and the Star Empire would like this meeting to be relatively discreet outside of your nation and my own. I would also assure you that our own recent...connection...to the Cluster is causing its own stir in the upper tier of the Diet and at the Palace."

"Now perhaps my own set of introductions are in order," she smiles and turns to her rather small delegation.

"Fregattenkapitan Jewett Isolda, commanding the HMS Raven," Isolda salutes Admiral Robespierre, and offers a courteous bow to the others.

"Your Grace," she says to Leclair, "it is an honor."

"Herr Sid Packard, my attache from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs," Packard--an aged man with silver at his temples--bows nobly.

"And finally Oberstleutnant Julius Wingate of the Sovereign Protectors," he salutes from his position behind Katherine's shoulder.

Katherine mentally nods and turns back to Leclaire, "The implications of the discovery of the terminus are actually what brings me to L'etoile, Your Grace. For the moment let us say that the Star Empire does not wish the Federation to represent our ownly venue into the Cluster. And although there are other nations present outside the Federation and your own they have certain positions which make them intractable to our sensibilities."

She allows the remarks to stand on their own, eyes moving between Robespierre and Leclaire, "But perhaps we could see a bit more of this station, Your Grace? That is if we have some time before His Majesty can free himself from the affairs that trouble his mind."

**********

"Transit Group One has safely completed passage through the terminus, sir," Shen Tai turns toward Featherson from looking at the view of the empty space where a third of his command had formerly "existed."

"Good. How long until the wormhole is stabilized for another transit?"

"Sanctuary will grant clearance for another transit in twenty-eight minutes, Admiral," Featherson says, reading from his comp-pad.

"Signal to the rest of Transit Group Two, they are to begin acceleration for the terminus event horizon and match speeds with the Concordia. Inform Kapitan Danziger he may begin acceleration at one-fourth normal power."

"Aye, sir."

The second transit group of Shen Tai's command moves toward the terminus event horizon. The dreadnought Concordia, paired with the HMS Sun Tzu--the newest battleships in the Kriegsmarine moves with two of the new Interdictor-class cruisers (CIs), two Zilphia-class electronic warfare support ships, and the second cruiser squadron of the Talbott Cluster command. They leave behind the carrier task force led by the super-carrier HMS Ponchartrain that forms Transit Group Three.

**********

Meanwhile on the Yeltsin's Star side of the terminus, Transit Group One reappears from its brief moment of "non-existance." Two destroyer flotillas (sixty-four destroyers and two frigates), a cruiser squadron (eight heavy cruisers and twelve frigates), and the battlecruiser division led by the HMS Agrippa (four battlecruisers) suddenly inhabit Grayson territorial space.

"This is Flottenkapitan Achner, commanding the HMS Agrippa. I formerly request a traffic pattern for the ships currently under my jurdistiction and also would like to alert the system traffic control that Transit Group Two of Grossadmiral Shen Tai's Talbott Corridor Fleet will be transiting from Alpha Centauri in forty-five minutes."

The formidable array of warships drift away from the immediate exit vector of the terminus event horizon in Yeltsin's Star. They await further direction from Grayson system traffic control.

**********


To: Lunatic Retard Robots
From: Duke Adrian Sterling, First Minister for Her Majesty's Foreign Affairs
Re: LRR Usage of the Alpha Centauri/Yeltsin's Star Wormhole Terminus

Vessels registered in the name of the government of Lunatic Retard Robots are more than welcome to have access to the new terminus of the Alpha Centauri Wormhole Junction. All that Her Majesty and Her Majesty's Government request is that vessels registered in the name of LRR respect and follow the Imperial Junction and Terminus Code and Protoccols.

Although we will not formally require it, Her Majesty would prefer it if the government of LRR would sign the Neilson-Roxana Treaty that specifically governs usage of the Alpha Centauri/Yeltsin's Star wormhole terminus. Otherwise LRR will have to operate under seperate guidelines and strictures worked out with the Protectorate of Grayson regarding use of their end of the terminus.

Valinon's approval delights the RGF, since access to the wormhole opens up profitable new markets.

Freighter/escorts are loaded up full with all sorts of commodities and raw materials to bring to Yeltsin's star, and the cruiser Amandrai heads towards Proxima Centuari.

One of the newer spheres, and therefore also one of the larger spheres at nearly two kilometers in diameter, the Amandrai is not exactly the quickest thing around, although when it fires up its ion drives to full thrust it can certainly make a good clip. Its strengths lie in the fact that it is decked out with excellent medical, engineering, and scientific facilities, monstrous propulsion systems, and very heavy (for an RGF ship, which probably isn't too much) armement. The ship can do quite a bit in battle, and is also very useful in exploratory missions, but the prohibitive cost of such large versions of an already expensive type of vessel has limited the production of such large spherical independent cruisers to around six units. It is much more common to see smaller exploratory and scientific ships reporting back to one of the larger ones due to their self-sufficcent characteristics.

To the government of Valinon:

The independent cruiser RGSV Amandrai has been dispatched to Proxima Centuari (coming from the shipyard DYS-7) in order to sign the Nelison-Roxana treaty. The ship, traveling via hyperspace, should arrive within the day.

We would also like to expand the cruiser's mission to include a meeting with a representative of the Star Empire in order to discuss certain issues that have aroused interest, such as genetic slavery and the state of the Raumreich, which needless to say contains several major destinations for RGF merchant vessels. Being firmly against the exploitation of any sentinent life form (and against unlimited exploitation of many non-sentinent ones), the LRR RGF and associated branches are always available for operations against such slavery.

OOC: Poor LRR jumped into a thread that is the convoluted concoction of the ever calculating mind of Valinon and my own lunacy...he he i pity the fool...post forthcomming .

OOC: Poor LRR jumped into a thread that is the convoluted concoction of the ever calculating mind of Valinon and my own lunacy...he he i pity the fool...post forthcomming .

OCC: I wonder if there was a time that I actually used to be invited into threads, as opposed to just popping in.

But hey, what am I here for?

OOC: LRR, check TGs.

The court of Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Friedelinde Alderman I, was something to behold. Music, fine wine, delicacies from across the Star Empire’s dominions, and the ne’er-do-wells of the governing class of Valinon gathered together in the vast room that held the Throne of the Twin Suns—one of the most prevalent images of House Alderman’s power. It is an atmosphere where even the partisan and divisive nature of the Congress of Lords is pushed aside by the fiat of Her Majesty. During the summer season and late spring the court generally enjoyed itself on the Palace grounds, but seasons on Proxima—especially in the northern latitudes—were noted for going to extremes. True New Koln was not covered with ice and vast drifts like Augustgrad or several of the Vaterland’s northernmost cities, but snow was not an uncommon sight to inhabitants of the Crown Province surrounding Imperial Centre. And so the members of the aristocracy, an array of ambassadors, and numerous other guests attending this particular convening of the Court talk as the soft tones of The Archangel Concerto—one of the most noted pieces Valinon has produced—drifts through their ranks. They operate with bare minimum of regard for the host of Alderman servants tending to their refreshment needs, or the watchful eyes of the Sovereign Protectors.

“So it is true then?” Duke Adrian Sterling looks at Lord Moyes as he sets his wine glass on a passing tray. The aging member of the United Lords coalition—formerly a Crown Loyalist if Sterling’s memory serves him correctly—looks at him intensely.

“Yes. It appears the Federation has convened an emergency session of its central government to discuss drastic amendments to their constitution.”

“What sort of amendments?” ask a shrill voice, one of the aging dowagers who had no doubt attended the court when Rowald I was still Crown Prince instead of an Emperor sixty years dead.

“Apparently they intend to fashion a more competent government, or at least attempt it. News travels so slow from Rembrandt, but the matter of the government there gaining the ability to tax the Federation members has been discussed at considerable length,” Sterling says, grabbing another glass.

“These Cluster nations can be so tiresome. Eight systems that can barely hold off the genetic slavers of Mesa, it’s a wonder they survive at all,” Moyes says.

“And their governments. It’s also a wonder they aren’t in virtual collapse. The Caledonians and the Graysons appear to have a firm grasp how government should be handled, but the rest,” the dowager shudders.

“The Kriegsmarine will solve all that,” says an aging noble wearing a uniform cut along dated naval lines. “We can make short order of these pirates and fringe scum. Grossadmiral Shen Tai will see to that.”

“It is a pity the Star Lord could not attend today.”

“Yes, but he wished to make for Yeltsin as soon as possible.”

Sterling sighs, the Court could be tiresome at some points. Friedelinde—much like Old Emperor Gustav—preferred her power to be subdued. Her court did not reflect the ominous tones of power and struggle that had filled that of Gustav II.

Not that that is a bad thing, Sterling thinks quietly to himself.

“I take it the Service will be sending a representative to observe these proceedings?” Moyes voice cuts into Sterling’s thoughts again. The man had served long with the Diplomatic Service himself, and his curiosity was certainly based in more reality than many of those that vied for Sterling’s attention. The dowager and the former Kriegsmarine officer stop their discussion of the “delightfully backward Cluster” and look to Sterling.

“Yes, Her Majesty believes that is necessary. Federation policy has the possibility to impact our own interests, and we cannot allow our voice to go unheard.”

And the Centrists are making their feelings of a stronger Cluster known with enough volume to shake the Twin Stars themselves.

“Baroness Santon has been good enough to offer her experience and services to represent Her Majesty in Rembrandt. I spoke with her yesterday and she intends to leave with Star Lord Shen’s command.”

Moyes nods somberly, “Natalie will serve us well in the Cluster. And after serving on Roum for so many years…well the Cluster will be a welcome reprieve.”

“Announcing The Most Honorable Citizen Morgan Dolan, His Excellency Hegemon Channing Ansel’s Ambassador in the name of the Ortagan Hegemony,” comes the decree as the doors to the chamber are opened once again.

Speak of the devil, and he shall….

“Adrian, if I could speak with you for a moment,” Adrian turns to find Lady Diedre Rolt-Adonis, and her husband—the venerable Lord Reynard—in between himself and Moyes.

“Of course, My Lady,” Adrian says, watching Diedre’s eyes as she flicks her gaze meaningfully toward Dolan. Several of the Centrists, including von Richter, are already approaching the Ortagan ambassador. A man of build and character that always reminds Sterling of some sort of unpleasant reptile from the swamps of Falasmayon. Luckily relations with the Hegemony have cooled considerably since the United Lords had taken the Government.

“My apologies, Lord Moyes,” Diedre says. “I seem to have stolen your entertainment.”

“Affairs of state dictate higher necessities, Lady Prime Minister,” Moyes says with a bow and drifts back into the rest of the court.

“Keep Dolan busy,” Diedre whispers to Adrian, “Reynard and I will keep the Ticonderogan ambassador subdued.”

“An oversight?” Adrian mummers in return.

“Not likely,” comes Reynard Adonis bass voice. “Dolan was not supposed to attend. He was supposed to be in Archangel appealing to the Turin Combine again. Judging by the speed of his return I’d say things did not go well for Ansel’s government. And Dolan always likes to make his woes known to the rest of the world. If the Hegemon is making his life miserable, rest assured he’ll try to do the same to as many others he can lay his hands on.”

“We have to keep them apart until Her Majesty arrives. I already have Sir Forrest speaking with the Verniian ambassador and thankfully Gar nar Kiranka is not with us today.”

Adrian nods, and grabs another glass of wine, “I will do it. Her Majesty shouldn’t be that much longer.”

Diedre nods and moves with Reynard toward the position of the Ticonderogan ambassador, who is already glaring intensely at the Ortagan. Affairs were wonderful in the Court of late, especially since most of the Empire’s neighbors smelled blood from the Hegemony. Certainly not without cause, even the diehard Centrists did not disillusion themselves by saying there were no problems in Roum.

Sterling approaches Dolan, smiling carefully. Give the Hegemon what damnation you will, he had picked a man that knew well how to play the game of intrigue to be his ambassador to New Koln. Sterling was more than willing to grant Dolan more than half the credit for keeping the dying Ortagan/Valinor alliance alive and almost the same amount at securing loans for the ever-growing debt of the Ortagan state.

“Herr Dolan, what an unexpected pleasure…”

Controller Keith Remmington was awed by the sheer amount of tonnage that just excited the wormhole. However as the head of the newly established Astro Control Service he had a job to do and by the tester he will do it.

Outer Yeltsin station was less then 500 k-klicks from the terminus of the wormhole floated a new but important structure in the system. It was dwarfed by the recent Valinor construction but it was even more important. The spherical station was roughly comparable to a Defender class fortress, at 4.5 km in diameter, and housed the command center for the newly established ACS.

“Valinor Vessels you are cleared to enter the system or proceed to any other station at your discretion. Welcome to the Cluster.” He said crisply and professionally.

---

Rear Admiral Cosgrove continued to be in charge of the Federation Naval detachment responsible for the security of the wormhole. And his reinforced squadron was not the ad-huc unit it once was. It numbered eighteen of the most powerful capital ships in the federation, and a dozen corvettes and gunboats. Eight Hyperion class cruisers from the GSN, Eight of the new and powerful Nova Class dreadnaughts of the Somerset Militia, two of the new Shinando class Battle Carriers which was a joint design of the SM and GSN. The lighter units were mostly from the other member states, Vermonter Sloops, Avalonian Gunboats, Splitian cutters, all were agile and maneuverable and packed a potent punch for their size.

The squadron was aligned in a perfect wedge the heavy units composing its center the lighters ones flaring outwards. In unison they blinked their running lights in a salute to the arriving Kriegsmarine vessels.

Shinano Carriers
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v503/thewick/shinano.gif

"It would be a pleasure my lady. We can simply take a more roundabout path to the dining room. Amiral," he said turning to his older companion. "I hate to paint you into the role of tour guide, but you've overseen every major refit of Fortresse you know her better than anyone here."

"It would be my pleasure m'lord." he replied. As Robespierre lead the group through the station he began narrating, because dispite what the minister had said, he was indeed very proud of the station and had something of a flair for storytelling.

"The current Fortresse was built 50 standard years ago, although one military station or another by that name has orbited Nouveaux Caledonia since we first returned to the stars almost 380 years ago. The station can berth up to 34 ships, has a permanent crew of 1200, and is the operations nerve center for the Caledonian Navy. It might interest you Fregattenkapitain to know that it mounts primarily missile weaponry relying on system escorts and fighter for close support... Up ahead we have the main observation lounge..."

******
The tour was not long, taking approximately 20 minutes before they arrived at the dining lounge that had been prepared for them. Jean-Michael Dragonne King and Sovereign Protector of Nouveaux Caledonia sat in an antechamber to the dining room. In truth, this room had been where his "pressing matters of state" had kept him since the arrival of the Valinor. Those pressing matters being a very old bottle of Belvedere Vodka. The lie, for thats what it was, to the Valinor was not meant as an insult, but merely as a way of showing these newcomers that the Caledonians would not fawn over them and pander to their every whim in attempt to curry favor, even if that was the king's personal desire.

There is a certain level of dignity that must be upheld Dragonne thought to himself as he pondered the glass in his hand and the clear liquid within.[/i] If we have any hope of ever dealing with these outsiders as equals then we must establish aposition now.[/i] Just as he thought the words, a beep sounded indicating that the guests had nearly reached the dining lounge. THe king knocked back his drink savoring the smooth burning sensation, and walked into the dining room to recieve the most important guests in all of Caledonian history.

******

"Princess Catherine, I am honored to recieve you." Jean-Michael beamed as he strode across the room to kiss the hand of the Princess. "I am sorry that I was unable to recieve you at the landing platform, but the business of government does not wait for such mere mortals as ourselves.I hope you didn't find George [/i]too[/i] boring." the king shot a smile at his Prime Minister and close friend.

In its inaugural run to Yeltsin, the freighter/escort RGSV Desert Dawn, packed with all sorts of goods and other junk, exits hyperspace near Alpha Centuari, about the same time that the Amandrai arrives near the system as well.

"Attention terminus control, this is the RGSV Desert Dawn, requesting permission to enter the wormhole, over."

Approximately 550 meters long, the Desert Dawn is one of the newer freighters built by the fleet yards. The vessel is essentially a foreward module, containing the crew and four ion thrusters, as well as the shield generators and weapons control equipment, connected to a rearward block of three thrusters by two spines. In between these spines, cargo packets are fitted, like the container ships of the past. The ship carries impressive armement for a freighter, with several heavy ion cannon and laser turrets, as well as a few secondary turrets and numerous laser PD mounts. While the ship lacks the room to accomodate the very comprehensive weapons systems on the independent cruisers and largest freighters, it can make a good showing of itself in battle.

The neat rows of destroyers, frigates, cruisers, and the four battlecruisers of the TaCluBatCruDiv (HV) I flick their own running lights in a return to salute as they rapidly accelerate toward the solidfying skeletal frame of the command center for the Tenth Star Lord's command. The Fogger and her trio of escorting destroyers have already formed up around the station and dim their own running lights in return.

But even as the first transit group moves waay from the junction, another array of warships appear. At the heart of the new formation is a sleek Quentin Forrest-class dreadnought, two ships of strange configuration and cruiser size are on either side of the dreadnought, and the final flank supporters of the obvious flagship of this group are a pair of Zilphia-class electronic warfare support ships. The sleek lines and wings of a Resolution-class battleship rides the point of the second group's formation. Four cruisers and six frigates on each side form a perimeter around the central warships and their escorted.

"Grayson Astro Control, this is Grossadmiral Shen Tai of Her Majesty's Kriegsmarine, commanding the Talbott Cluster Corridor. I am here to assume overall command of all imperial assets present in the Cluster both here at the present time and for the future of my deployment. There will be one last transit group consisting of the second carrier task force of my command, the first task force is making its way to Yeltsin's Star from Klein and should arrive in short order. Once the last transit group has cleared, Sanctuary Control will allow normal traffic patterns of the wormhole to resume," the voice that fills the comm has a flowing grace to it, an accent that it still rarely heard outside the home systems of the Star Empire. But the brisk, business tone is something the Graysons and their Federation allies would have become use to since the Valinor discovered the wormhole terminus connecting the Twin Suns to the Cluster.

**********

Katherine offers Jean-Michael a warm smile as his lips drift away from her hand.

"Your Majesty, it is likewise an honor to meet you as well. As for the affairs that kept you busy, think nothing of it. I assure you I understand fully the pressures that befall a nation when interstellar distances are suddenly--and quite unexpectedly--cut down to a virtual nothingness. Besides, your Prime Minister was a host of considerable measure, and he has my compliments. As does Amiral Robespierre."

**********

"RGSV Desert Dawn this is HMSS Sanctuary Central Junction and System Traffic Control. Currently all normal traffic terminus patterns have been suspended by order of Grossadmiral the Lady Katherine Adonis, First Star Lord of Her Majesty's Kriegsmarine citing Imperial Junction Control and Standards Code, Section VIII, Sub-section XXII, relevant paragraphs to allow Grossadmiral Shen Tai to transfer his command and flag to the Yeltsin's Star system. Normal wormhole operations and transit schedules will resume in twenty-three minutes. Your ship has been assigned transit number Alpha-Nu-2 and will be allowed to transit to the Cluster after the ship from the Greater Empire of Vakutu. We are uploading the course information and navigation buoy sequence to you know. Please do not deviate from this course. Sanctuary Control out."

**********

The Trafalgar had found itself escorted under the watchful eyes of a pair of Lion-class frigates to a temporary docking facility in orbit over the massive jovian world of Prometheus Centauri, the last of the Five Worlds of the Alpha Centauri system. It had docked at the facilities surrounding the orbital city of Saint Joseph, the administrative center of Prometheus's numerous orbital settlements. Then it had waited for three days as the Kriegsmarine monopolized the terminus connecting Alpha Centauri to the distant worlds around Yeltsin's Star.

But then an emotionless voice hails across the distances between Sanctuary and the Trafalgar.

"Verniian warship Trafalgar this is HMSS Sanctuary Central Junction and System Traffic Control. Normal wormhole operations and transit schedules will resume in twenty-three minutes. Your ship has been assigned transit Alpha-Nu-3 and will be allowed to transition through the terminus once the RSGV Desert Dawn has successfull crossed the event horizon and the wormhole has restabilized. The course you are to take is being uploaded to your ship's mainframe now. You will be accompanied by an escort and will maintain an acceleration of 150 gravities. Deviations from this course, over acceleration, or attempting to break from your escorts will be considered hostile actions and dealt with accordingly. Sanctuary out."

The ship's AI handles the manouvering procedures very nicely, and waits for its turn in the wormhole.

Meanwhile, the Amandrai turns up, expecting an audience with a Valinor representative. The ship's massive bulk, and the fact that no attempt is made (RGF cloaking systems are notoriously bad) to hide the vessel, must cause it to be a relatively obvious contact on pretty much any sensors apparatus. If Proxima Centuari had recieved the government's sub-etha broadcast, they would already know of this visit, and would have time to brace for the somewhat unorthodox LRR diplomats. After all, it can be very awkward when dealing with a robot, especially in trade.

Trafalgar shuddered as it detached from the orbital docks of Prometheus. The captain certainly hadn't minded, the three days of waiting had allowed him to get plenty of passive sensor footage that the Imperial Office of Naval Intelligence would love to go over, especially the transits of the Valinor warships.
***
Ambassador Declan hadn't been as easily sated. But boredom was easily trounced. With the exception of meetings, meals, basic bodily functions and hygiene, and sleep of course, he'd spent virtually all of his time on the cruiser logged into the Valinor Nu-Space network. He'd started off playing the ship's virtual training simulations against the crew, and then after being defeated rather thoroughly, had went onto various multiplayer competitions with civilians, and made a better accounting for himself that time. That was the first day, the second had been spent doing more of the same and then building his own little private VR world, and then tearing it apart. He was an addict, he knew that privately, but he would vigorously deny it to anyone who charged him with it.

Anyway, he did feel decidely better to finally be moving again, the long wait after such expectancy of a short trip had been almost crushing.
***
The cruiser surged toward the terminii along it's specified flight path, at the specified acceleration rate of 150 gravities.

"It was our pleasure My lady." replied Leclaire.

"Excellent!" exclaimed the the king. "Well I'm sure that everyone here is famished, so shall we sit down?"

After the diners are seated, stewards take everyone's drink orders and the first course is brought out, a salad in a local vinegrette. (the salad as well as the rest of the food is spectacular. Sorry to dictate that, but one of Caledonia's main exports will be fine foods so I want the Valinor representatives to be impresses by the quality.)

"Princess, I am curious. I know exactly what my nation wishes to gain from our newfound relation with the Star Empire. Namely, an increase in trade, miltary capability, allies, investment and all the other trappings of a modern commercial relationship. I am however curious as to what exactly you wish to gain, aside of course, from a new outlet for Valinor goods.

Katherine delicately sets down her wine glass, noting with satisfaction it is of excellent vintage and carefully wipes the corners of her mouth more out of habit than real necessity.

"Your Majesty, the Star Empire of course hopes that your kingdom will become a mutual trading partner with our realm, but that is not our only design," her eyes flit briefly across the other faces at the table. "A confidance between the Star Empire and your kingdom must begins somewhere at any rate."

"We believe that the government of the Federation is inherently unstable, perhaps dangerously so to be perfectly blunt. And many in the Congress of Lords feel that the Federation will attempt to over-extend itself embolden by the discover of the wormhole."

"But let me reassure you, Your Majesty, the majority of the Star Empire's government has no designs of annexation or expansion on the Cluster. As a matter of fact we are acting to actively discourage the other Inner March powers from doing so. But we cannot do this completely alone, without any support from the inhabitants of the Cluster, without becoming what we are striving not to be."

She looks intensely at Jean-Michael, "We are of the opinion the Federation may be attempting to undertake too much at once. At the same time they are moving to reconstruct their entire system of inter-system government, they are also moving toward a more aggressive stance with the Mesan Conglomerate and the association of star systems centered around the Monica system. This aggression isn't unjustified considering the previous nature of the Mesans in the very least, and the Star Empire will support any attempts to root out such a hive of dispicable activity. However, we fear that the Mesans and their allies may prove to be tougher opponents than the Federation believes. Certainly their very nature would call to many Inner March powers to...invest in their commodities?"

She plunges onward, "Although we will not allow the Federation to fall to the Mesans, the Star Empire will not fight a war for the Federation. And should the Federation experience a severe reverse that requires our intervention, we are fearful of what that might portend for the future of the Cluster. Especially if the Mesans are being supported by outside forces, like the Ortagan Hegemony. Therefore my mother and her ministers feel it is wise to help other powers in the Cluster develop. I think the best way to put it is the adage of not putting all your eggs in one basket?"

Finally, it becomes the Desert Dawn's turn to trasverse the wormhole, and it fires its engines, following the prescribed path to the event horizon.

As abruptly as it left, the Desert Dawn emerges at Yeltsin's star.

"Attention system control, this is the RGSV Desert Dawn. We request permission to enter the system, over."

An automatic transmission stating the ship's cargo, identification codes, and other necessary information is sent via laser.

"Welcome to Yeltsin's Star Desert Dawn , judging by the manifest you transmitted you purpose in the federation is that of a trade mission. Please transfer the junction tariff fee to ACS central and you will be free to enter the Federation." A feminine voice transmitted from ACS central.

"However, to precede with any trade missions to a member nation of the Federation you must first proceed to the Somerset System to have your cargo taxed and processed before distribution, as per paragraph 6 of the Articles of Federation in compliance with the processes and regulations of the Rembrandt Trade Union.” Her voice stated almost mechanically.

"Roger that, ACS central."
"What does that mean?"
"Should we go to Somerset?"
"First we should wire the money."

After the crew debates for a few seconds, the necessary sum is transferred from the LRR treasury.

The freighter/escort enters the junction, although it looks like, from the control's statement, they will be unable to proceed with their intended task. They will probably take on some provisions and perhaps a passenger or two for transport to Somerset.

Meanwhile, the Amandrai approaches Proxima Centuari.

"Attention Proxima Centuari system control, this is the RGSV Amandrai on a diplomatic mission to Valinon. We request permission to dock."

Trafalgar rigged its warshawski sails for wormhole transit, and plunged into the mouth, instantly disappearing and reappearing in Yeltsin's Star. It coasted onward for a few seconds on its momentum, then the sails went down, the wedge went back up, and it accelerated away from the terminii.

"Contact System Traffic Control."

"Yeltsin's Star ACS, this is the Verniian cruiser Trafalgar, we are here on a diplomatic mission to the Grayson government."

***

Commodore Blackwell sat in his cabin aboard the Geneva as it left the New Vermont system, trailing along behind it was the rest of his squadron. He'd spent the last few days conducting preliminary talks with the Burlington government, and then had given them several tons of samples of Verniian consumer goods and electronics as a goodwill gift. A small chime sounded through the ship, and then the squadron vanished into hyper.

"Trafalgar welcome to Yeltsin's Star. You are cleared to proceed in-system to Grayson orbit at Lagrange point two, coordinates are being transmitted as I speak." The unemotional feminine voice stated to the Verniian ship.

"Acknowledged ACS."

The cruiser brought up it's acceleration to 500 gravities, and headed in-system.

Declan immediately set about contacting the Grayson government. He connected with the administrative branch, "Hello, I'm Ambassador Declan, representing the Imperium of Vernii. I would like to make an appointment to speak with the Protector."

After about thirty minutes a message was transmitted back to the Trafalgar, if received on a video display it would show a middle aged man's face with short black hair.

"Ambassador Declan, my name is Henry Entiant and I've been in communication with the Protector and he is for granting you an audience, If you shuttle down to Austin City to these coordinates, its a pad just outside the Conclave, we will arrange transport for you to the Protectors estate. I look forward to meeting you at the landing site." The diplomat told the ambassador.

The Somerset system was situated in a most adventitious location at the center of a group of more then a dozen systems, an obvious center of trade. In fact it was trade and the opportunities that it wrought that lead to the creation of the Federation of Allied Systems as it exists to this day. In fact the official title of the government made the Federation out to be a closely unified group of star systems, of course in reality it was anything but that.

The Federation was really established as the brain child William Ginsberg, the leading merchant on Rembrandt. Using his commercial clout and popularity with the public he was able to establish himself strongly in the Somerset Congress. Throughout his terms as a congressmen he often passed policy favorable to his own trade guild, much of his success is due to his political savvy and to substantial other means such as blackmail. His agents often spied on those in other parties finding out their dirtiest secrets, affairs, sexual preference, corruption in business, he used all this to secure the votes a good deal of congressmen cementing his power base. He himself was guilty of all these and worst even partaking in several of the illicit pleasure resorts offered by the Mesan Government.

For all of his faults Ginsberg realized that the success of Somerset trade would bring greater profit and success to his own guild, and so he proposed the concept of the Federation to the Congress. The Federation was really an intersystem trade alliance called the Rembrandt Trade Union that would stimulate trade in the surrounding systems revitalizing their economies and bringing them success. Where before the struggling colonies lacked markets for their goods, now they were forced to sell all their goods at Rembrandt, where they would be taken into the Somerset merchant marine and transported to their real destinations. As a result Rembrandt reaped the majority of the profits however the sheer volume of trade allowed for the systems the goods originated in to generate impressive profits.

This was most clear in the case of Yeltsin Star which before the initiation of the Federation lacked any interstellar trade so its industry was stagnate and solely dependent upon itself. The arrival of the Somerset Merchant Marine opened up new vast markets for Grayson goods. While backward and stagnate Yeltsin’s star did have a well established industry from its extensive mining operations and orbital farms, just waiting to be tapped and tapped it was.

Now Yeltsin’s Star maintained a Merchant Marine and Navy second only to that of Somerset herself, quite a feat in the three decades since the RTU’s establishment. Both the Somerset Militia Navy and the Grayson Space Navy were able to project their sphere of influence into what became known as the territories, an exposed series of system that had recently been subject to ever increasing raids from the Monican and Mesan governments. It exchange for their joining the RTU the Federation, would extend their protection to the systems and provide escorts for their convoys.

Now after a decade and a half of financial growth and relative cooperation between previously uncooperative star system the Federation and its RTU seemed to be a success, and in most senses it was. That was until Congressmen Ginsberg was beaten at his own dangerous game. When resorting secretly on Crown Point and fully enjoy all that the Pleasure resort had to offered he was being observed by intelligence officials of the Mesan Government and soon was turned to their side, blackmailed. His only task was keep playing the role of the good senator but every now and then to send to the Mesan information on the fleet positions of the various militias and navies of the Federation, convoy routes, lone freighter paths, where and when new ships were expect, and also to expose the territories as much as possible without anyone becoming suspicious of a leak.

And so it was in resent year strife and turmoil began to increase at the sessions of the Federal Congress, Federal Territories demanding more and more support by a Federation whose members like the Grayson willingly to give it however unable…and the Rembrandters whose leader secretly was a spy for the enemy. The other full member systems for the first time have enough infrastructure to build hyper capable ships and freighters of their own began to feel restricted by the pro-Somerset policies of the RTU. To top all of this off a wormhole linking the Federation to the inner marches of the Raumreich, all the promise and hazard that that event would entail, it was a precarious position indeed.

Trafalgar settled into it's assigned parking orbit at L2. A few minutes later, the ship's boat bay doors slid open and a pinnace slid out into space. The pinnace didn't activate it's impellers, the trip would be short enough for conventional propulsion.

It slid into the atmosphere, spreading it's manuevering wings to help control it's descent, and counter-grav engines came online.

It settled gently onto the landing pad, the engines diminished in pitch until they were silent, and then the hatch on the side opened and a staircase unfolded.

Declan walked down, wearing a white formal uniform with a red collar and braiding, adorned with the gilded seven-point star of the Ministry of Foreign Relations. Behind him followed the other three senior members of his delegation.

After about half a day in Yeltsin's Star, the Desert Dawn sets out for Somerset.

The captain and AI are somewhat disappointed at the fact that their trade mission is taking more time than they wanted it to, but its something to do at least.

So, the freighter/escort makes its way to Somerset.

Meanwhile, in a recent surge of diplomacy exhibited by the Robots, the government has expressed interest in arranging a summit between Valinon, Vernii, The WIck, and Nouveaux Caledonia. While the reason for such a summit might appear silly to the resepective leaders of the mentioned countries, the robotic government would very much like to have meetings with these nations to determine what exactly is happening in their neck of the woods.

OCC: Just a reminder about the Amandrai.

"Ah Mr. Declan! Welcome to Austin City our modest capital" Henry Entiant said. Indeed to the inner march powers that was a statement of fact for no building exceeded more then seventy-five stories, and the city was more spread out wide then it was skyward like more modern cities with towers reaching into the heavens supported by counter-grav. It would be a clean relatively unpolluted city if it wasn’t for the atmosphere of the planet. It was thick with heavy metals such as cadmium which made the number one cause of death on Grayson Lung cancer. Most days the cloud took a rusty orange hue.

"If you and your party come with me to the train we can talk once we are on our way to the Protector's manor." The short man in a professional suit told the Verniian ambassador.

http://www.dubbadoo.com/cities/calgary_3.jpg Is the cityscape if one can imagine the gritty orange cloud.

"Mr. Entiant I presume? It's a pleasure to meet you." Declan and his subordinates followed Entiant to the train.

OOC: Just going to fast forward this a bit...

Fifteen foot high marble wall ringed the Protector's manor, which itself was a four story high mansion. It was the ancestral manor of the Fisher family who currently reigned as the Protector, ever since the aftermath of the Great War two hundred years prior.

The guards posted at the main gate saluted as the ground car drove by their position. As the group entered the manor the Protector greeted them. Like most Grayson’s he was short but well built and was dressed in the blue-grey pinstripe suit that is quite common on the planet.

"Welcome to my humble manor my friends. If you would follow me to the palor we can talk more comfortably enjoying good drink."

The king smiles. "Indeed I do understand, my lady. And if I may say so, as one of the few non-Federation states that isn't a murderous slave trading despotism, I belive that Nouveaux Caledonia would be an excellent basket for some of the Star Empire's eggs. As for Mesa and Monica, We have no love for either of them. Both nations took advantage of our status outide the Federation to prey upon shipping, and it has only been recently that we have been able to provide sufficient military power to repulse their incursions on our own independent of Graysonite aid. We would be more than willing to help insure that those particular nations are no longer a threat to our corner of the universe, or anyone else's for that matter."

"One of the problems my lady." chimed in the aged Fleet commander. "Has been that until recently we were at a significant technological disadvantage to our enemies. The money brought in by Mesan slaves also brought in outside goods and weaponry. We compensated somewhat by building smaller and packing more firepower into more maneuverable frames. But even with a numerical advantage it is still a hard fight against the better equiped pirates and slave raiders. THat is an area in which we cold use particular aid."

Upon entering the parlor in actuality it was more of Fishers office, the walls were lined with bookcases filled with well...books. by the fireplace there was a two chairs for the ambassador and the protector and there was a couple more about the room along with some benches. Two men and a woman were already in the room, some smoking, the men sipping bourbon and the woman a fine merlot.

"Ah this is much better." the Protector said lighting a cigar and enjoying it for a few seconds before continuing. "Well what can I get our new Ambassador to the Imperium? I here tell that Verniians are well wine snobs, I do keep a respectable cellar with a fine merlot, or a more exotic violet vintage? Also I think it is a good time to get to what we need to discuss also."

Declan smiled. "Oh, the merlot will be quite fine. Thank you. As to why I am here...my government soundly believes in the principles of capitalism, and of sticking to those principles. One of the basic tenets is competition. Why get charged a higher price by one store when you can get the same product at another store for cheaper? Businesses have to compete with each other for the limited amount of consumers, and so in the end, the consumer can usually find a favorable deal. We believe the same holds true to politics, especially foreign relations. Right now the Valinor have a virtual monopoly on dealings in the Talbott Cluster, and there's nothing in place to ensure that you, serving in the same role as the consumer, aren't getting, well, ripped off."

Declan paused momentarily to take a short breath before continuing, and began to absentmindedly pace about.

"The Valinor hold all the cards in their hands right now. They control the Junction, they have an economic and military advantage, and while I honestly doubt they will, they could easily seize the system if they wanted to. In short, there's nothing keeping them from ripping you off other then their own benevolence. They could always just pull out if you became too much of a trouble, and leave you to the Mesans or the Ortagans."

"We believe in offering you a second option. Valinor merchants, having to compete with Verniian freight lines, would have to lower their charges, the Valinor military, if facing a Grayson or Federation Navy equipped with Verniian technology and warships, would have to give you a little more respect. Anything they offer you, we can probably give you a second offer on."

Fisher merely puffed away on his cigar contemplating what the ambassador just said. He realized that every action his nation would take in the next few weeks would be scrutinized very closely, and their consequences would be dire. He realized that about five minutes must have past before he finally spoke.

"Yes Verniian technology would be of a great benefit to the navy, and is something i am very interesting in securing for the GSN. Needless to say our ports are always open to any trade from you nation as long as it adheres to the regulations demanded by the RTU. I can see only benefits to becoming trade partners with your nation." He stared out of the large window of his parlor the sunset filling the room.

"As for our new found allies the Valinor, it is true that they are mighty and could easily secure this star system should they want it, but can the same not be said of Gregor? As for the Ortagans, well Yeltsin and some of the other Federal systems are home to a good number of there refugees from The WIckian Commonwealth both from the last war and from this new offensive. If the Valinor left us only to face that particular beast well...I don’t really want to think of it."

"So, tell me what exactly can you offer us?"

"Well, not exactly. The Imperium couldn't secure this system all that easily. The fastest route to here would be through Alpha-Centauri, and the Valinor wouldn't appreciate that in the least. Then there's the conventional route, but that'd take any fleet through Ortagan territory, and that'd be pretty risky. But anyway..."

Declan smiled, "I do believe we have something to immediately offer you. Henry?" He turned to one of his subordinates, a stern looking man of middle aged appearance.

The man cleared his throat. "Ah, yes. Protector, as you yourself said, your navy could greatly benefit from modern technology. While I don't believe my government would be willing to sell or give away any of our current warship classes, not at this stage of our relationship anyway, we do have something to offer."

"There is a large planetoid orbiting about 15 light minutes from Gregor's primary. It's hollowed out, and inside are many warships of the old People's Navy of Vernii, those that weren't famous enough to become museum ships or memorials, but that the government didn't want to scrap. I'm authorized to inform you that my government offers a dreadnought and two battlecruisers. Sure, the ships are old and out of date compared to any Kriegsmarine or Imperial designs, but they should still be quite effective against anything another power in this cluster could field. They've been nicely preserved against deterioration, so bringing them up to operational standards wouldn't take very long. We can also provide skeleton crews to get them here to Grayson, and might be able to convince a retired admiral to help train your new crews and serve in an advisory role."

Declan cut in, "All we ask in return is consideration of our nation as an alternative in any deals in the immediate future," he smiled, "Interested?"

Through diplomatic channels, a message snakes its way towards Vernii in the clogged-up and overheating sub-etha net.

It reads:

Dear Eminences,

We (the government of LRR) would like to ask you (the current governing body of the Gregor system) if you would like to conduct a meeting between our two respective parties on the state of Gregor and perhaps deals concerning trade.

A memo with the LRR message printed out on it was included in the stack of papers waiting for Archduke Teschen when he came into his office each morning. He signed his signature approving a subsidy for some new start-up electronics company, and placed in in his "Out" box.

He read the LRR memo with interest, and pulled out a piece of stationery. He wrote out a reply, and summoned his secretary. "I want this transmitted to the LRR government. Thank you my dear."


To Whom It May Concern,

The Imperium would be most interested in hosting a meeting between our respective governments on the matter of interstellar trade. You may send a delegation at your leisure.

~Archduke Alfred Teschen
Minister of Commerce

"Id say that I am quite interested in such an offer, yes definitely interested." stated, however he did realize that the Valinor may not be too happy about the Verniians beginning to get a foothold in the cluster. Well I don't see them offer us any warships, they offered technology at a price and that avenue would be explored but no gifts and certainly no whole dreadnaughts. Every action we take has consequences the Protector realized and this move would have its own.

"I do see one problem with this transfer though, I doubt the Valinor will allow Verniian warships to cruise through the wormhole, nothing larger then one of your cruisers if i recall your treaty correctly." The Protector pondered.

"If I may sir?" The woman asked, she wore an elegant dress at the moment but she wore the blue on blue uniform of a Commander in the GSN for her day job as the captain of the brand new cruiser Williamsburg. "My Division is tasked with providing escorts to the new trade convoys to AC and then to the Inner Marches of the Raumreich. I think that if a couple of my cruisers are diverted to Gregor, we could flag the ships as GSN vessels, that should get us around any restriction, as our currently our wormhole treaty with the Valinor places no restriction on our shipping and warships traffic." She stated with more confidence then one would think from a rather junior commander, but she was the Protector’s niece, and mettle ran in that family.

"Yes, that might work. Especially if the vessels have their transponders, names, and prefixes changed to Grayson ones, as well as having a Grayson officer take official command. The Valinor won't be happy about it, but they'll be Grayson ships, not Verniian. If they put up too much of a fuss, both of our governments could complain that they're trying to keep you vulnerable."

Declan smiled, perhaps he did have a flair for this diplomacy thing.

Within hours, a small frigate pulls out of a monstrous shipyard station and makes its way towards Gregor.

The fact that such a small ship (just shy of 150 meters) is being used for this particular trip and the massive Amandrai has been tasked to visit Proxima Centuari might indicate some things to the Verniian authorities, but such consequences hadn't been thought of by any RGF personnel.

"I do hope it does not come to that. My nation so far has been treated with nothing but professionalism and respect for the Star Empire and her navy, though some of their officials think of my people and the cluster in general as nothing but neo-barbs. A certain Von Richter? Yes that is the Ass' name is the one who spouts such rhetoric. I do not want to damage our relationship with the Valinor so I will personally inform the new Space Lord of this. After all respect is earned through actions, if the GSN acts in the shadows how can the Valinor ever respect us?"

The king smiles. "Indeed I do understand, my lady. And if I may say so, as one of the few non-Federation states that isn't a murderous slave trading despotism, I belive that Nouveaux Caledonia would be an excellent basket for some of the Star Empire's eggs. As for Mesa and Monica, We have no love for either of them. Both nations took advantage of our status outide the Federation to prey upon shipping, and it has only been recently that we have been able to provide sufficient military power to repulse their incursions on our own independent of Graysonite aid. We would be more than willing to help insure that those particular nations are no longer a threat to our corner of the universe, or anyone else's for that matter."

"One of the problems my lady." chimed in the aged Fleet commander. "Has been that until recently we were at a significant technological disadvantage to our enemies. The money brought in by Mesan slaves also brought in outside goods and weaponry. We compensated somewhat by building smaller and packing more firepower into more maneuverable frames. But even with a numerical advantage it is still a hard fight against the better equiped pirates and slave raiders. THat is an area in which we cold use particular aid."

Katherine smiles in an almost wolfish fashion, "And that is an area where the Star Empire is willing to assist along with several others, Amiral.”

“Allow me a few moments to outline my reasons for coming here, Your Majesty,” Katherine says, finishing her glass of wine then holding up a hand to stop it from being refilled. “For starters, the Star Empire wishes to help your realm improve and enlarge its ability to defend itself. To this effect, a series of technological exchanges—especially in the areas regarding weaponry, sensors, reactor technology, and point defense systems—will take place between the Kriegsmarine and your own naval forces. Besides the technological transfers, we are also willing to provide certified experts and technicians to assist your officers, crew, and logistics services to work with our technology. A similar arrangement will be worked out between the Reichswehr and your own army and marine forces.”

“Secondly, the Star Empire wishes to make sure that present and future personnel of the forces of Caledonia enjoy the same edge in terms of training and knowledge that the militaries of the Inner Marches enjoy. To this effect, the Kriegsmarine will establish an exchange program through the Academy to allow a pool of 500 Caledonian candidates—selected at your discretion—to undergo training at their facilities. These trainees will be treated the same and given the same opportunities as our own men and women would be. The Reichswehr is willing to contribute a number of its reserve and off-duty officers to provide instruction and advisor roles to your own forces.”

“In regards to helping you to eliminate piracy and threats to commerce, the Raven will stay in-system after my own departure to return to Alpha Centauri via my own vessel. Eventually a detachment from Grosssadmiral Shen’s command will be dispatched to oversee the security of the technology transfers to your kingdom, but the time of their arrival will be directly impacted by the out come of this meeting. So I cannot say for certain as to when they would arrive to relieve Fregattenkapitan Isolda or her command.”

She looks intently at the King of the Caledonians, “Now as for what the Star Empire desires in return for these transfers. We want a mere set of guarantees that these newly acquired abilities and technology will not be abused. To that effect, we want two things. The first is a mutual free trade agreement between the Star Empire and the Kingdom, and the second is a mutual non-aggression pact between both our nations. The latter has the possibility of turning into a full binding alliance at a later date.”

She eyes him affectionately, “We would be eternally pleased if the Alliance of the Twin Thrones—that which exists between the Throne of the Twin Suns and the Great Throne of the Clans of the Vaku—could be joined by a third throne in the future.”

“Of course there is some degree of mobility to this proposal, and I have the confidence of my mother to negotiate in her name and the name of her government. I am more than willing to listen to any counter-offer you may have, Your Majesty.”

**********

The unthinkable had happened, and Faustus Metternicht, leader of the Centrist Party, suppresses the desperate urge to roll his eyes as Gunther von Richter slams his crystal tumbler of Scotch against the oak table he broods at in Metternicht’s New Koln townhouse.

“They’re idiots! Insufferable idiots, bastards, and whores the lot of them!” von Richter growls. “The Rolt Government could not find the true way to use power if their lives depended on it! And now they’ve sent the entirety of the Vaterland on this mad course of theirs. The Dosadi Initiative will bring us to ruin!”

Metternicht raises a hand to conceal his small smile. Indeed the Dosadi Initiative had passed, even with the Centrist opposition--joined by that of the Augustgrad Union, the New Men Coalition, and more than a handful of dissident seats within the major parties of the Government—had been unable to stop the Dosadi Initiative from passing. But it had not been unaltered, and Metternicht had ensured that the Initiative that had passed could be used to his advantage. Still it had been almost worth the defeat to see von Richter verbally demolished by Lord Adonis in the Lords.

“It is unfortunate the Initiative passed, Gunther,” Ingram Doucet says in calm tones, “but it could not be avoided and at least we managed to make the United Lords yield on several key issues.”

“A few key issues!” von Richter snorts. “We’ve tied our own hands. What we should have done is made the entire Yeltsin’s Star system a protectorate the instant we discovered it.”

Doucet sighs, “Take a moment, Gunther, and look at the passed form. The Initiative binds our hands, yes, it states clearly we will not actively seek to acquire territory in the Cluster. But it we did have it amended to where the Rolt Government will have to actively move against any and all attempts by any Inner March nation that seeks to expand into the Cluster. And they must move against it in a fashion that pleases a super-majority in the Congress, something they cannot do without our support. Baron Mironenko managed to get the economic strictures scrapped from the final draft. And the Dosadi Initiative does not limit our abilities to pursue the policies of informal empire, despite the best attempts of the liberal United Lords and Greater Raumreichers. And we also secured the matter that there will only be one embassy to this Federation’s morass. It will be located on Rembrandt, and the other members of the Federation will receive only consulates or trade legations.”

“The Initiative’s mere existence is still sickening,” von Richter says, swallowing the refilled contents of his tumbler in one gulp.

“Indeed, but it cannot be helped,” Metternicht says, at last intervening. “Still we have a more pressing issue. The Protectorate of Grayson appears to be actively pursuing a relationship with the Imperium of Vernii. And have entered into negotiations to purchase military technology from them. My own sources have been unable to determine what they are purchasing, but it is immaterial.”

“Ungrateful barbarians,” von Richter interjects. “Even before the damnable technology transfers of the United Lords can be carried out they’re already trying to weasel into the Verniian’s favor.”

“We can best them at their own game, Gunther,” Doucet says.

“Yes, we can,” Metternicht says. “The Graysons wish to try and play their betters against one another, let us show them how a true master of this art does it. When Lady Rolt next summons me for the conference between the Government and the Opposition, I will tell her that the Centrists—along with our supporters in the New Men Coalition and the Augustgrad Union—do not appreciate such blatant favoritism being given to the Graysons. I will call for the technology transfers between our own forces and the Graysons to be kept in balance with those to Somerset.”

“She could refuse,” Doucet says, eyes concerned for a moment. Von Richter growls.

“She wouldn’t dare!”

“Lady Rolt has dared a good deal in the past, and she is still Prime Minister,” Doucet says, glaring at von Richter.

“Ah, but this time I will have one key factor, gentlemen. Marius Turin has assured me Lady Rolt will find dissention among her own ranks—especially in the Greater Raumreichers—if the transfers are not kept equal. She will either have to increase transfers to the Rembrandters or scale back those to the Graysons—which I do not believe is an option at this point.”

Doucet nods his assent. Von Richter glowers.

“The Federation is a powder keg. If it was to explode it would be to our advantage, Gunther,” Metternicht says. “We could move in of our own accord to restore order and prevent the spread of the Mesans damnable practices, or have a nation we select move to fill the void. The Caledonians would certainly be an acceptable candidate. And the Rolt Government is feeling pressure from the Palace itself to cooperate with the Caledonians.”

“Gunther, you will move that junction tariffs on the Gregor terminus be raised. I’m sure you can find some appropriately interesting reason to cite for doing so. The Verniians want to try and compete economically, let them face hell in doing so. Or let them run through Ortagan space. And then we can hand them to Ansel’s killers on a silver platter and watch the Hegemony feast on them like it does everything else that enters its grasp.”

The Grossgeneralfeldmarschall of Proxima Centauri nods, and refills his glass from the nearby decanter.

“There is one last thing, Faustus,” Doucet says. Metternicht arches an eyebrow.

“Forrest.”

“What of him?”

“He was at the voting session when the Initiative pass, in the observer section. Could he….”

Could he be readying to confirm his seat in the Lords? the unspoken question hangs in the air.

“No, the good Grossadmiral is still as apolitical as ever. His influence is negligible,” Metternicht says, realizing he almost did so too quickly.

“Gentlemen,” he raises his own glass of Scotch in a toast. The others assent.

“E is for Empire, for which we would die,” they say in unison and drink. The other are escorted out by Metternicht’s valet.

Metternicht continues to sit. Sir Quentin Forrest, perhaps one of the most unknowns in the grand scheme of the Star Empire’s power structure. The only man ever in the Star Empire’s long history to not confirm a hereditary seat in the peerage of the realm. And despite his continuing stance of apolitical neutrality, the retired First Star Lord was a man of considerable influence and personality—both within and outside the Star Empire’s borders. Even among the Verniians Forrest was respected where von Richter was reviled. The Hegemon—despite the fact he and Forrest seem to have had a falling out since Ansel had entered politics decades ago—still held the damnable man in high regards. If Forrest ever where to break his neutrality…..
Metternicht shivered involuntarily.

**********



United Valinon News Network, Your Only Source For News From Across The Empire!

News Faxes in Brieg

Congress of Lords Approves Dosadi Initiative

By a vote of 385 for, 292 against, and fifteen abstentions the Congress of Lords have approved the Dosadi Initiative—a comprehensive plan for the Star Empire to act as a guardian against outside expansionism into the Talbott Cluster.

“This is a historic moment in the Star Empire,” says Prime Minister the Lady Diedre Rolt. “We can show to the people of the Cluster that the Inner Marches are not possessed by a never-ending desire for war-mongering. It is time we let them know that at least one of the Great Inner Nations stands with them, not against them! Her Majesty, has already spoke to me of her whole-hearted support of this Initiative, and is willing to commit the full might of the Kriegsmarine, the Reichswehr and her Ministries to its efforts…”

Full Story?

Greater Empire of Vakutu Withdraws Embassy from Roum!

A spokesman for the Ministry for Foreign Affairs has confirmed that the Greater Empire of Vakutu has withdrawn its diplomatic representation from Silesia. The Vaku state that this is because of “continuing disregard” for their “interests and concerns” in the Great March by the Hegemony, and that they will no longer seek active relations with the Hegemony so long as it will not grant their own diplomatic representatives the same regard as those of the rest of the Inner Marches.

Coordinator Wolfe of the Hegemon’s Foreign Affairs and Ambassador Dolan have been unable for content.

Herr Scott Jenkinson, a noted analyst on Ortagan foreign relations has commented….

Full Story?


**********

“Is lot 344-A secure?” Michael Kipling hears the cargo master shout over his shoulder as he moves to store his comp-pad in his belt.

“All clear at this end. So is 338-D.”

“Thank God. I’ll tell the bridge we are ready for transit. The sooner we can get back from this tour, the better.”

Kipling smiles and starts back toward the crew lift. The final hours before the IMS Mandalay—one of the innumerable behemoths that form the Twin Star Line Corporation’s shipping armada—transits through one of the wormhole termini of the Raumreich are always frantic. And this cargo has made it especially so.

Kipling takes a final look at the rapidly descendings cargo container formations. They bear the markings of some of the Star Empire’s most noted military contractors—Voralberg Enterprises, the Jacobs Combine, Firestorm Fusion Technologies, the United Syberian Industrial Conglomerate, the Nova Technologies Syndicate, and innumerable others. It is a parade of some of the best technology in the entirety of the Seven Dominions—advanced sensors, gravimetric components, Nu-space equipment, computer hardware and software, and that doesn’t mention the containers filled with ready-to-use military hardware.

And all of it bound for the Cluster Kipling thinks to himself.

Actually the cargo wranglers had to scramble at the last minute because the Kriegsmarine logistics officers supervising the operation had decreed that the load now had to be split between the Somerset and Yeltsin’s Star systems. The Mandalay had been held over in the Proxima III planetary system for four days before the load had been redistributed and ready to proceed to the terminus.

Kipling shrugs, no doubt the Kriegsmarine being overly cautious as usual.

**********

On the fringes of the Somerset system a blue-white vortex rips into normal space. Baroness Andrea Santon sighs heavily as the HMS Gerard de Luc—a diplomatic frigate—exits hyperspace.

The term diplomatic frigate is a complete misnomer, the ship’s armament and that of her sisters serving the Diplomatic Service is only a step above that of the Academy’s research vessels. And what is has is geared almost wholly for defense.

She carefully lays aside the book she was reading. She knows this will be her last mission in the name of the Service, and certainly she is thankful for that. After over two centuries, Santon is tired of being an agent of the Star Empire’s diplomacy. It could wear on any individual.

But the Service had needed someone for the slot to the Federation’s constitutional convention, and she found the Federation to be intriguing. Besides, the directives from Duke Sterling had not been that difficult. Merely to ensure that imperial interests and security remained unthreatened and unchallenged by any factions within the Federation, and also to act as an impartial observer willing to assist the startlingly dissident factions of the Federation.

One of the younger crewmen enters the observation deck where Santon had been lounging.

“My Lady,” he says with a slight bow, “we are communicating with the Somerset traffic control and expect to be making for planetary orbit over Rembrandt shortly. Shall I have a shuttle prepped?”

“Yes, please do,” Santon says standing with some stiffness in her legs. She had set for far too long. “And please tell Javid that I wish to speak with him.”

“At once, Mein Frau,” he says and leaves.

Santon folds the book under her arm and proceeds back toward her quarters. Hoping to find her long time aide already present. There are some details that need to be gone over before the arrival to the Federation’s capital.

OOC: LRR, I will respond to your diplomatc mission in short order. i overlooked it on accident.

OCC: Aye. Although...I would imagine that in the context of our made-up world here a 1km sphere cruiser would be quite difficult to overlook, especially because of its massive engines and somewhat bright color scheme.

Dragonne breathed a silent sigh of relief. Such an arrangement with the Star Kingdom was exactly what he had wished for. He could tell that he was also playing into the inscrutable political desires of the Valinor, but at the moment the welfare of his nation was foremost in his mind.

"My lady, such an arrangement is exactly what we had hoped for. If you wish we may write up and formalize both agreements before the end of your stay here. As for the Raven, Fregattenkapitan Isolda is welcome to stay with us for as long as necessary." He turned to the ship captain smiling, "Our fleet facilites are at your disposal Fregattenkapitan, and both youself and your crew are welcome to the hospitality of Nouveaux Caledonia. I believe you will not be disappointed."

"I do hope it does not come to that. My nation so far has been treated with nothing but professionalism and respect for the Star Empire and her navy, though some of their officials think of my people and the cluster in general as nothing but neo-barbs. A certain Von Richter? Yes that is the Ass' name is the one who spouts such rhetoric. I do not want to damage our relationship with the Valinor so I will personally inform the new Space Lord of this. After all respect is earned through actions, if the GSN acts in the shadows how can the Valinor ever respect us?"

Declan's smile faded a bit at the mention of informing the Star Lord. "Well, while the Valinor may treat your nation with courtesy and respect, the same does not hold true for their treatment of mine, particularly Von Richter. But anyway, yes, informing the Valinor may be a good idea to avoid any misunderstandings or confrontations that arrive, it will so spoil such a nice surprise. But yes, we wouldn't want your new ships and so many men to be blown out of space by their overreaction would we? So yes, yes that might be a good idea. Carrying on though, if you accept our offer, I'll have Henry here have the cruiser send a message back to Gregor."

OOC: LRR, I'll get to replying to your post within my next couple.

"I say that we do have a deal indeed Ambassador." He finished his cigar, "As I understand it you are going to be the ambassador to Grayson, and another will be sent to Somerset and Caledonia as well?"

"Excellent! Henry?" Declan's assistant rose, "I'll go inform the government now Sir." Henry then bowed to the Protector and left the room. Declan leaned back in his chair. "Well, I haven't accumulated much seniority yet, so I'll probably be replaced within a few months, but until then, yes, I'll be Vernii's ambassador to Grayson. I do believe that the government will be sending ambassadors to Caledonia and Somerset. In the meantime, I do believe that Yeltsin will experience quite a trade boom, it should prove to be very profitable."

***

Trafalgar received Henry's message, encrypted it, and retransmitted it through the wormhole. From Alpha-Centauri it was redirected through the Gregor junction, and finally received by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The message, given a priority header, was reviewed by Grand Duke Brydges, then stamped with his approval, and forwarded to His Majesty for review. Alexis, by good luck, was actually in his office when it was received, and quickly stamped it with his seal.

***

The arrival of the LRR starship was noticed by one of the thousands of sensor platforms studding the system. Within minutes, a calm and professional female voice, artificial though, transmitted to it. "LRR frigate, please identify yourself, your purpose of visit, and activate your transponder. A system traffic controller will connect to you in a moment. Please hold your present course and acceleration."

***

A small fleet of heavy tugs and transports cruised silently through the outer area of the system. A planetoid, known as OSO (Outer System Object)-3752, about three hundred kilometers in diameter sat silently in the space before them. Security codes were transmitted and accepted by the planetoid's defense computer, and the ships were given clearance to proceed with docking.

A small hatch opened for one of the transports as it docked with OSO-3752. Skinsuited technicians came across into the planetoid. Computers brought up internal lighting, reclaiming compartments and corridors from the darkness. Atmospheric pumps replaced the vacuum with air, and by the time the party had gotten to the planetoid's main control chamber, they were able to take off their helmets and breath freely. The huge viewports of the chamber looked out onto nothing, just pitch blackness. "Well, here we go. Let's find out if the lights still work," said one of the technicians. He pulled down a series of levers.

Lights snapped on, immense lights, the closest of which hurt the eyes when looked at directly. The darkness vanished, revealing an immense hangar carved out of the planetoid itself, and inside that hangar floated row after row of warships. White hulls gleamed in the harsh light, proudly proclaiming names of ships that had been quietly retired from service after the Imperium's position was secure. They were old, even the youngest of them was just over fifty years of age, but that didn't matter to the technicians, the first humans to look upon them in years. All they saw were the millions of tons of battlesteel and warship sitting there silently, the two kilometer bulk of the dreadnoughts, and the sleeker, more graceful shapes of battlecruisers sitting beside them.

More commands were entered, and two massive doors, large enough to admit those same warships through them, ground open. The tugs floated in, establishing tractor locks on one of the dreadnoughts, VNS Albion, and two smaller battlecruisers, Thunderchild and Provocant. They gently eased the massive ships out through the doors, turning them slowly in space toward Vernii, and began easing them toward the orbital docks where they would be brought up to operational standards.

The doors ground shut again, the levers were pushed back, and the sleeping warships were plunged into stygian darkness again. The last technician out of the chamber slowly turned, then shut the door behind him.

Quite a trade boom that will in turn be taxed by the RTU, so that their merchant cartels could reap the benefits of the wormhole trade directly. But yes their existed now a chance of great potential of a Yeltsin not depended upon the RTU for a marketplace for its industry. The future was a mystery however not one to be scared of and the Protector knew his planet would embrace it wholly.

"Yes I believe that is the truth Ambassador." The protector said concluding things.

The arrival of the LRR starship was noticed by one of the thousands of sensor platforms studding the system. Within minutes, a calm and professional female voice, artificial though, transmitted to it. "LRR frigate, please identify yourself, your purpose of visit, and activate your transponder. A system traffic controller will connect to you in a moment. Please hold your present course and acceleration."

"This is the RGSV Chameleon, here on a pre-arranged diplomatic trip," responds the AI.

The crew, not many more than ten including the four diplomats, are generally employed in customs work, and rarely leave their assigned system, so such a long trip is unnatural at best for them.

Winter had finally come to New Koln, and a fierce storm had locked the capital of the Star Empire in its icy grip. Snow turned the vast city surrounding Imperial Centre into an elegant vision of white and clear crystals. But even as temperatures plummeted to negative ten degrees Celsius—and showed the tendency to drop further—the people of New Koln still went about their business. The vast expanse of First Landing Square, dominating the core of the Commerica sector of New Koln, still showed signs of life. And the streets across the river from the island known as Imperial Centre still blurred with the movement of clothing embalmed figures. Yes, the Valinor undoubtedly had the power to control weather, or at the very least the ability to gain such technology. But the Star Empire preferred it this way, like their colonization of arid wastes of Proxima III or the swirling jovian of Prometheus Centauri, its people preferred to dominate their worlds by sheer force of will. To defy the very attempts of nature to steer them away from the worlds their flag waved over was in their very essence.

There is a slight clink of metal on glass that disrupts Lade Diedre Rolt-Adonis from her train of thought.

“Thank you, Cedric,” comes a warm voice from the other chair.

“It is my duty, Your Majesty,” the butler says as he retreats from the study. He leaves Diedre with Friedelinde Alderman, the windows of the study dominated by the skeletal outlines of trees and the eternal greens of hybrid conifers. The rest of the Palace grounds are covered in snow.

Friedelinde sets a glass before Diedre and pours from the elegantly crafted silver teapot.

“Sugar?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Congratulations on passing the Initiative, Diedre,” Friedelinde says as she hands her the cup and its saucer. “We can finally start to return sanity to the Raumreich.”

“The Centrists and the Augustgrad Union are less than pleased.”

“Oh, please. Even the Centrists at some level realize the age of formal empire is starting to pass. They to see that continual expansionism is just as dangerous as a sedentary life. Our neighbors in the Great March demonstrate that to them all to well. No, they will rattle their sabers and continue to complain from here until eternity, but they are content with the current boundaries of the Star Empire as well. After all, further expansion of the Diet may chip away at their own faction in the Lords.”

“Von Richter would disagree.”

“Von Richter is a foolish old war horse and a political idiot. And if it’s the last thing I do, Diedre, I will have that many evicted from the office of the Grossgeneralfeldmarschal of Proxima Centauri. Even if I have to do it by carrying him out myself.”

Diedre nods as she slips her tea. Friedelinde is very much a reflection of Old Emperor Gustav. Her power is understated, and its extent for the most part concealed, but give her time and anger her enough the Empress of the Valinor will overcome anyone who dares oppose her—or who she considers to be a fool.

“But perhaps we shall get to your purpose of coming here?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Mostly I’m here on behalf of Adrian.”

“The Federation matter?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I hate to agree with the Centrists at any part of an issue, Diedre, but this is one issue where Doucet and Metternicht have it right. The Federation is unstable, and I think it suffers heavily from a chronic case of having too many chiefs under one roof. There are differences between the governments of Grayson and Rembrandt that will have to be reconciled, and I’m not entirely sure they can be under the current balance of power in the Cluster. Which is one reason I had Katherine travel to Caledonia.”

Diedre almost chokes on her tea.

“The Princess has left Centauri?”

“Yes, some weeks ago aboard the Raven.”

“The Centrists will scream until no one else can be heard.”

“They had no problems with imperial prerogative when my half-brother was on the Throne. If they choose to now I will remind them of such. Besides the Lords can still confirm any formal treaty. But the affairs pertaining to any transfers between the Caledonian armed forces and my own are my prerogative, and if the Centrists dare to question that particular branch of tradition I will see them lynched as hypocrites.”

“So when will Princess Katherine return.”

“I should think within a few weeks, Diedre. I do not expect many issues to arise in negotiations with the Caledonians. I strongly suspect their government will see this as a golden opportunity to leap-frog to the forefront of Cluster affairs without having to cater to the Federation or the Mesans,” the last word is filled with distaste.

“Speaking of that particular group. When will the sanctions on Mesa and Monica be brought before the Lords?”
“Soon, Your Majesty.”

“That is not the tone of confidence.”

“There’s the matter of the Centrists proposing a tariff increase on the Gregor terminus. We are already getting echoes across the Lords.”

“I can understand why the Graysons purchased those warships, but the Verniians were stupid for going through with it. If they couldn’t see what it affect this affair would have on their already terse relationship with close to half the Diet, then I may have overestimated the common sense of Alexis Calimar and his government. If it comes down to it, Diedre, the Verniians can bite the bullet they shot for themselves. I cannot tolerate or condone in any format the actions of the Mesans. It’s bad enough we cannot get the Liga to condemn and abolish genetic slavery wholesale because of Roum, but I will do what I can to see it stamped out.”

“New Cardona will not be pleased.”

“It’s as much their own doing as it is the Centrists. And until the two kill each other or one trumps the other we’re stuck with both of their occasional gross stupidities and prejudices. However, I will make sure the Centrists move on this matter is not pleasant, nor without cost.”

Diedre decides that it is best to leave the subject to the devices of the Imperial House, “And finally the LRR representative that’s coming to New Koln?”

“He will arrive today. Wilhelm will meet with him and bring him to the Palace. I’m relatively certain all they want is a reestablishment of trade agreements. And if we are going to convince our distanced friends in Sol that I’m not my half-brother and you’re not the Centrists in a more attractive format then we must start somewhere. Besides, the robots are not exactly the worse people to have around. Certainly they love the Aumanii just as much as we do.”

There is a knock at the door and suddenly a man dressed in military cut black-on-black uniform steps into the room. There is no rank on his uniform, save for a small V-like insignia on his collar. He is of average height and drawn from the Japanese extract of the Old Dominionite populace. A black cloth stenciled with blue characters and pictographs of the Outer Centauri “Taoist” religion covers his eyes.

“Your Majesty, my pardons but I have distressing news,” he says bowing formally, hands grasped in front of him. “Earl Cavegn has passed away a few hours ago. And a representative of Reimann, Devenoge, and Kestenholz is holding for you.”

Diedre looks to Friedelinde, and Friedelinde to Diedre. Their curiosity is mutual. The unasked question of what is going on fills the room.

**********

Earl Markus Cavegn, the Earl of Rosario, was the last of the Cavegn line—one of the oldest families in the peerage of the Star Empire. The Cavegns had earned their title when one of their ancestor had led one part of the main force that recaptured New Koln in the name of Penrod the Great in the final months of the Collective Wars on the eve of the formation of the Second Empire of Valinon. Now over 900 years later, the heir of the war hero of Konrad Cavegn lay dead in his estate in the Amazonia province.

For the first time in over a century one of the hereditary seats in the peerage was left empty without a clear heir. The position of the Cavegn family was in peril. Such a noble bloodline could not just have an heir created, and it seemed that the Congress of Lords would soon be reduced to 693 seats.

But the last Earl Cavegn had left clear instructions in his will, and the venerable firm of Reimann, Devenoge, and Kestenholz—who had handled the Cavegn affairs for the past five centuries—moved rapidly to fulfill them. Only an hour after his death, a young representative of the firm was opening a safety deposit box in the Port Rosario main branch of the Crown and Sword Banking Group. The box had only a letter and the signet ring of the Cavegn family inside. The letter would rapidly take on a life of its own.

Markus Cavegn had not been a career member of the imperial armed forces, as was his family custom. Instead he had served long with the Ministry for Colonial Affairs before it was dissolved. He had also been part of the vast effort of the Valinor to pay penitence for the sins Gustav II visited on the Gregor system: the protectorate government led by Lord Reynard Adonis. It had been the last grand design of the Colonial Affairs civil service. And Markus Cavegn had been one of the key players in its ranks. It also seems the “glorious affair” of the self-proclaimed Lion Emperor would have far greater reaching impacts than perhaps even Gustav II could have foreseen.

Markus Cavegn did not die heirless. He left an heir, quite clearly spelled out in his will and support by positive DNA tests under taken by the BioDyne Corporation—Valinon’s foremost medical concern. But the heir was Verniian.

And so a courier raced from Proxima Centauri toward the terminus linking the Vaterland of the Valinor with the home star of the Imperium of Vernii.

**********

Isolda bows her head deeply, “Thank you, Your Majesty. You have my personal word that I shall cause as little trouble as possible to your own forces. Although I would like to use my tenure here to assist Amiral Robspierre’s efforts to eradicate the undesirable operations that are causing problems.”

Katherine nods solemnly at these words, “Indeed. I shall make my return to Alpha Centauri as soon as possible, Your Majesty. That way we can make this agreement a reality as soon as possible.”

**********

Wilhelm Alderman, Prince of Yalta and eldest son of Empress Friedelinde and Prince-Consort James Stewart, awaited patiently the arrival of the LRR ambassador. He stood in the shapeless ulster favored by the aristocracy of the Star Empire—still obsessed with the trappings of Old Earth’s bygone Victorian and Edwardian era. Flanked by a pair of Sovereign Protectors, he watches the cold gray sky over the New Koln Imperial Aerospace Port for the tell-tale glint of an approaching shuttle to one of the pads reserved for the use of the diplomatic ships of nations visiting the Star Empire’s homeworld.

System Gregor
Capital of the Vernii Imperium

Unlike most captains in the service of the Grayson Space Navy, Trey Bagwell had actually been to the Gregor system before, although over thirty years ago back before the Great War. Of course he was in another navy at the time and Gregor was a very different place, unscarred from the harsh realities of defeat.

He was now in command of a small taskforce who had two missions to complete in Gregor. The first was to deliver the new Ambassador to the capital of the Imperium. The second and main reason for the mission was to escort what would become the three most powerful ships in the Grayson Navy, and also a group of diplomats who would comprise the diplomatic consulate to Vernii.

He had four vessels traveling with him at the moment, three warships and a diplomatic cutter. That cutter and the two Hyperion Cruisers would remain behind in Gregor to establish the GSN and by extension the Talbott Federation’s presence in the Imperium. His own ship the new Nova class Dreadnaught Hammer would escort their gifts and its crew back to the Cluster.

The Valinon wouldn’t be happy about this event, but Bagwell also knew that the Rembrandter’s may perhaps be even more so distraught over this. He like most navy times and he supposed people as a whole disliked politicians, and Rembrandt in his opinion had some of the worst. It was a twisted democracy that they practiced for the most part, with their planetary congressmen acting as mere puppets for there patrons in the Merchant Guilds. His own systems local government was based upon the tradition of hereditary rule of Stead holders who ruled with virtual representation of their stead’s will with benevolence for the most part a trust of common law. The other systems of the Federation all had their own local governmental systems from the direct idyllic democracy practiced in both New Vermont and Montana, to the almost feudal type practiced in Avalon. However they practiced politics at home all the systems agreed to and loved the Federal Congress, whose representatives were elected and gave their home systems representation on an interstellar scale. It had one problem though by design the Federal Government was quite impotent.

Any naval officer who served in the frontier understood this. There existed no Federal Navy, the members systems defended their home systems with Militia whom rarely sailed from their home waters. The territories were defended by the GSN and the SMN alone, protecting the vast exposed systems from the constantan raids of the Mesan Conglomerate and the Monicans. It was a fight they could not win without support from a central government. The Federal Congress could not fund an official navy, they had no means to gather the funds to maintain it, the only tax laws that could be pasted were from the RTU and applied only to tariffs and trade, nothing else was allowed.

If there could not exist a Federal Navy, well it would be up to the GSN to protect their territories even if their allies were annoyed it was their duty to do this.

The captain of the cruiser Amandrai, Kayyam, watches as the New Koln cityscape grows nearer. Dressed in an actual uniform (uncommon for robots especially), resembling a 20th-century Royal Navy outfit, Kayyam thinks that he looks a good deal more presentable than usual.

It is uncomfortable for most cruiser captains to leave their vessels, given the fact that they spend most of their time aboard them, but Kayyam is one of the few who doesn't terribly mind it.

In the space above, the Amandrai orbits peacefully, wearing its powder-blue paint scheme emblazened with the Neu Wirldeish flag. Its spherical shape represents a shift towards the bizarre for the RGF shipyards, but the design does offer many advantages. Valinor analysts would certainly be given extensive tours of the ship by its crew, large by RGF standards but barely a skeleton force to most other observers.

Kayyam's shuttle settles on the pad and the captain steps out. Noticing the Prince, Kayyam heads over that way.

"Its a pleasure to see you."

Gregor Traffic Control was by most standards, a large station. It sat in high orbit over Vernii, a large sphere bristling with communications antennas and sensor dishes. The responsibility of maintaining tidy and efficient traffic patterns fell to the dozens of controllers on duty at any time, and at present, they were busy juggling their attention between the hundreds of merchant ships entering and leaving the system, and warships leaving the system on patrol or transitting to Erewohn. Normally this would have meant that the LRR ship would have had a several minute wait before a controller got around to it, but the traffic computers moved it up several levels of priority because of it's diplomatic status.

"RGSV Chameleon, this is GTC, we are uploading a specified course and acceleration to your navigation computer now. Please do not deviate from it for your own safety and those of other ships." The warning was not without merit of course, collisions in space, while rare, tended to be rather serious, particularly with ships using impeller technology. "Docking clearance is granted at station Alpha Two. A representative will be awaiting your landing planetside at New Cardona Spaceport, will you require a shuttle or does your ship carry one?" Alpha Two was one of Vernii's three main civilian space stations, a four kilometer diameter sphere with a large network of docks and substations connected to it.

***

The Gregor terminus was a large matter of disagreement between the Imperium and the Star Empire of Valinon. The Valinor had retained control over it even after the occupation had ended, and showed no intent to ever return it to Verniian control. This of course, hadn't kept the Imperial Navy from building up a formidable network of defenses just outside the official boundry between Valinor and Verniian space, and it was generally assumed that if hostilities ever occurred again, that the Valinor picket force would be a bug against a windshield. Most saw the matter as coming down to whether or not any substantial Kriegsmarine reinforcements could get through the terminus before the picket was demolished.

As it was, the Imperial Navy retained many of the operational procedures and doctrines of the People's Navy, and the six fortresses rotated through combat alert, two at a time, shifting every four hours. As the four Grayson warships blinked into existence, they found themselved locked up on fire control systems by the paranoid defense computers of the two combat ready fortresses. They weren't fired upon though, that required both a confirmation of aggressive intent, and a human to press the button. Their icons blinked red on the main holoplots in each fortress' command center, meaning that the computers had assumed but not confirmed they were hostile. Each ship was scanned, and then the blinking red triangles each shifted to a white triangle, meaning they were neutral warships.

Admiral West, commander of the Gregor-Alpha Centauri Terminus Defenses, sent a personal transmission to the Grayson warships. "This is Admiral West, on behalf of the Imperial Navy, welcome to Gregor. We'll let GTC know you're here."

"Understood, control. We do carry a shuttle."

It had been awhile since an RGF ship had visited Gregor. Not long ago, RGF ships had been in the system fighting Vernii, and after that as medical support, but trade voyages had dropped to just about none.

The frigate keeps to the assigned course well, although if called upon to move very quickly the fact that engine power had been sacrificed for greater armor and weapons capacity would come into view. Unlike the independent cruisers and freighters, frigates are by and large manned by humans and go without AIs, being small, generally short-range ships.

The Chameleon reaaches orbit, and the captain, as well as two other crew members, enter the small corvette (shuttle.)

Twelve Imperial Marines stood by the appropriate landing pad of the New Cardona Spaceport, along with a representative of Archduke Teschen. The man, Richard Baker, was a rather nervous man. He'd never been placed in this sort of situation before, and it rather annoyed him that the Archduke had seen fit to assign him to this duty. He glowered at the assembled marines, resenting the easiness of their duty. All they had to do was stand their and look impressive, and then present arms whenever a dignitary arrived.

A cold wind picked up, and he shivered, from that or the nervousness he couldn't tell, and buttoned up his jacket as a bit more insulation from the world.

As the GSN ships made their way in system Bagwell noticed Endicott and felt a his spine grow cold as the demons of the past caught up with him. Many Wickians refuges fled to the Gregor System fleeing from the first Ortagan invasion. After the first battle of Thetis they had nowhere to return to and so they became citizen of the Peoples Republic on Endicott…and so they paid the price too when the People’s Republic lost the war. They froze along side their allies when the orbital mirrors were destroyed. They also were critical in the uprisings that succeed in pushing the oppressive Valinor occupation force out of the planets capital city, and they paid the price when the city was pounded flat from a massive orbital bombardment.

History as they say repeats itself, the Wickians were again thrown out of their system, with more then a million seeking refuge in Gregor. A flotilla of former Commonwealth Navy vessels comprised a sort of Foreign Legion for the Imperium, more then thirty-five vessels in all, from a core of a Battle Squadron along with a Battle-cruiser squadron and a CLAC division, the rest comprising Fleet Destroyers as a screen and small but potent destroyer raiders. It was one of the largest concentration of Wickians vessels left in the Raumreich, and no one doubted its dedication or its will to fight, and the smart people would fear its desire to take revenge upon the Solar Navy that murdered so many of their kinsmen. This force blinked its running lights in a salute to Bagwell, he was after all technically a Commodore in what used to be the Commonwealth Navy.

The GSN warships took up station in orbit of Vernii as the diplomatic cutter descended to the surface to take its place in the embassy it was granted. The remained pair of ships that would not be apart of the station awaited a news from the Verniians that the ships they came here to take possession of were space worthy and ready to depart.

The VNS Albion had a lackluster history compared to many of her sister ships. Not to say that it wasn't something to be proud of, but compared to ships like the Empyrean or Bellerophon, she was forgettable. For this reason she had been stored in the darkness of OSO-3752. The Navy was too fond of her and her sisters to scrap them, but they didn't have enough fame to be turned into museum ships or memorials.

So there she had sat, not forgotten, but not glorified. Until the tugs had interrupted her slumber, dragging her and two smaller consorts from their berths, out into space again, sheperding them into KIG's maintenance yards to be brought up to operational standards again.

Her empty corridors returned to life. Impeller nodes were retuned and repaired, energy weapon sights were realigned, wiring was inspected, sensors were recalibrated, and a myriad of other details were gone over.

Then the crews had left, replaced with more men wearing the gold and black uniforms of the Imperial Navy. Finally came a shuttle, landing without ceremony as per the main occupant's wishes. It settled to the boat bay deck, the hatch swung open, and a grey haired man stepped down the shuttle's stairs onto the deck. The colors of his uniform hadn't been seen on the Albion in close to fifty years, for they were the silvery and black of the People's Navy of Vernii. He was Admiral Koenig, and was the senior most officer to escape from the Battle of Gregor, and as close to a living legend as the Imperium had. He was retired, but his service and closeness to the Emperor had let him retain several privileges. He was entitled to the same respect as a active duty admiral, and was entitled to wear his old uniform even if serving in the Crown's service, or recalled to active duty.

He turned to face the boat bay bulkhead, still painted with the Iron Cross and laurel of the People's Navy, and crisply saluted. Then he turned back to the waiting lieutenant. "Permission to board?"

"Permission granted Sir."

Koenig looked back at his fellow traveller, "Well, we beat the Graysons here by a few minutes, we'd best get busy preparing."

The two Nova class dreadnaughts under Bagwell's command took up station less then 100,000 kilometers from the Albion. His cutter made the short trip to the massive ship's boat bay quickly. The largest and most powerful ship in the GSN until this day was the ponderous Tillman whose firepower was unmatched at close range, however the advantage however was to the Albion whose impeller technology gave it an impressive acceleration rate the Tillman could not match.

As the cutter landed Bagwell descended its ramp dressed in the Blue on blue uniform of the GSN wearing the brimmed service cover. He saluted the Verniians admiral respectfully.

"Permission to come aboard sir?"

Wilhelm steps forward with a respectful nod to Kayyam.

"The same, Herr Kapitan," he says. "It has been some time since the Star Empire had visitors of stature from the LRR. And it looks as if there have been some changes in your own nation since our two governments last spoke."

His eyes drift toward the new LRR starship, "But I take it you have business to attend to. Perhaps you would like to retire to the Palace so that we may discuss it?"

**********

Magnus Einarsson was an oddity in the Star Empire's rank: he was a Valinor who did not mind distance from Valinon. In fact, Einarsson relished being away from the sanctuary of the Dominions of the Star Empire. And this fact had dominated his life. For twenty-three years he served with what was then His Majesty's Reichswehr, carrying out orders in the name of Emperor Gustav II. And he had done the unthinkable during his service with the Reichswehr--he had volunteered for five consecutive renewals for tours of duty in Gregor during the Occupation and then gone on to do the same when Lord Adonis was named Bashar of the Protectorate.

When the Star Empire withdrew from Gregor, Einarsson had left the military service for that of the Foreign Affair's Diplomatic Service. Over the past three decades he had served across the Raumreich--Roum, Vakutu, Gregor, and even a brief tour in Ticonderoga. But now he had been appointed to serve as the Ambassador-Consul to the Protectorate of Grayson, second only to Baroness Santon in terms of diplomatic authority in the Talbott Cluster.

He reads the files on the Graysons with muted interest as the diplomatic courier races toward Grayson. There is a deep, echoing sound and the voice of the courier's standardized AI comes.

"Herr Einarrson, you have an incoming holo-comm call from Grossadmiral Shen. Shall I forward?"

"Yes," Einarrson says and he turns toward the projector concealed in his cramped quarters wall. A small image of the newest Grossadmiral in the Kriegsmarine appears in his quarters.

"Herr Einarsson," he says in his flowing tones.

"Grossadmiral, sir. What may I do for one of the Star Lords of Her Majesty's Kriegsmarine?"

"I wish to know if you can relay a message to Admiral Westerman of the Grayson Navy once you reach the planet. If it is possible, I know that there are other....matters which have recently gained the attention of New Koln."

It is a barely concealed reference to Grayson's purchase of several old Verniian men-of-war a few days earlier. Something the Congress of Lords--especially the Centrists--were still in an uproar about.

"It would be an honor, sir."

"Excellent. I will forward the message then. Thank you, Herr Einarsson."

The hologram dissipates.

"Message received."

"Download it to a disc."

"Yes, sir."

Einarsson goes back to his files. Looking forward to supervising the first of the tech transfers to the Graysons, but not for a minute enjoying the less than pleased tidings of New Koln that the Graysons have chosen to solicit with the Verniians.

"Leutnant Vinson wishes to inform you will we arrive in Austin City forty-nine minutes."

"Tell the Leutnant I will be there momentarily."

**********

"This is extraordinary," said Lord Peter Bergen, Her Majesty's Ambassador to the Imperium of Vernii. "Truly extraordinary. However, I am very glad I will be no where near the Imperial Congressional Building when this seat confirmation comes up."

"As am I," says Vince Turner--representing Reimann, Devenoge, and Kestenholz and the Cavegn estate.

"Yes...," Bergen says, eying once again the documentation Turner presented him. "I will arrange for an aero-car to take you to see this citizen of the Imperium. And also arrange for dinner here at the embassy. I have no doubt there will be a momentary...state of shock as it where."

"I should suspect so."

There is a knock at Bergen's office door.

"Enter."

A younger man in the uniform of a Reichswehr Major steps in.

"You wishes to see my, My Lord?"

"Yes, Major Weber, I did. I need you to arrange an escort for Herr Turner if you would. Two of your men if you can spare them. And perhaps a grav-bike as well?"

He salutes, "At once, My Lord."

"I will see you when you return Herr Turner. Although I suspect that I might wish that I had sent a med-pack rather than a Sardaukar before this is all over."

"I don't think that would be inappropriate to say the very least."

"The very least indeed."

Wilhelm steps forward with a respectful nod to Kayyam.

"The same, Herr Kapitan," he says. "It has been some time since the Star Empire had visitors of stature from the LRR. And it looks as if there have been some changes in your own nation since our two governments last spoke."

His eyes drift toward the new LRR starship, "But I take it you have business to attend to. Perhaps you would like to retire to the Palace so that we may discuss it?"

"Certainly. I have never had the privelage of visiting this city before now."

Kayyam notices Prince Wilhelm looking at the Amandrai, and feels that it is necessary to explain its design.

"The Amandrai is one of the RGF's newer ships, and also one of the larger ships. We've recently been trying to get away from normal fleet structure and convert many formerly combat hulls into freighters and other utility vessels. The spherical independent cruisers are meant to act as an all-purpose ship."

Benita Roxana was now the secretary of state for the Protectorate of Grayson following the recent retirement of the man who used to hold that position.

It was a cool and brisk autumn day on Grayson, the kind she preferred. She looked up to the sky, the new Valinor delegation should be arriving within the hour, and it was her job to greet them and get them settled in so to speak.

Twelve Imperial Marines stood by the appropriate landing pad of the New Cardona Spaceport, along with a representative of Archduke Teschen. The man, Richard Baker, was a rather nervous man. He'd never been placed in this sort of situation before, and it rather annoyed him that the Archduke had seen fit to assign him to this duty. He glowered at the assembled marines, resenting the easiness of their duty. All they had to do was stand their and look impressive, and then present arms whenever a dignitary arrived.

A cold wind picked up, and he shivered, from that or the nervousness he couldn't tell, and buttoned up his jacket as a bit more insulation from the world.

OCC: This is it?

IC:

The shuttle, a flashy, silver vessel, descends through the atmosphere and touches down on the landing pad.

A ramp drops down, followed by a ladder to aid in climbing down along the tall landing legs, and after that comes captain Faisal Luanda, a robot. While Faisal doesn't look worried, the truth is quite opposite. The last time that LRR associated with Vernii, LRR was nuked. It is only understandable that an air of apprehensiveness exists.

The government's intent recently has been to end the isolation that LRR has gone through with regards to diplomacy since the end of the Valinon/Vernii war.

Eh...bump?

OOC: Sorry about the delay, writer's block.

Koenig respectfully returned Commodore Bagwell's salute. "Permission granted."

He nodded toward the People's Navy ensign on the boat bay bulkhead, "The decoration is a bit out of date, but the Albion and the other two starships are spaceworthy once again."

He cleared his throat, then stepped to attention, "I am authorized by the Emperor to formally transfer ownership of the dreadnought Albion and battlecruisers Thunderchild and Provocant to the Grayson Navy. I am also authorized by the Emperor to offer my services to the Grayson Navy as an advisor and training officer."

Admiral Koenig saluted again, smiling. "Congratulations on your new command Commodore."

***

A robot eh? Interesting. Baker thought to himself as he watched Captain Luanda descend. "Uh, Hi. I'm Richard Baker, Archduke Teschen's representative for this occasion. If you'll follow me, I have an aircar waiting to conduct you to the Archduke's office."

Luanda bows to Mr. Baker, and follows him to the aircar, something of a rarity in The Neu Wirlde, where trains are the norm.

Luanda therefore has some trouble entering the aircar, but mamages after a few seconds. He keeps the suitcase in his lap.

"Pleased to meet you. I am captain Faisal Luanda."

OOC: Bleh, I'm a creature of habit. A couple days of not posting turns into a couple weeks.

The aircar rises gently from the ground, and then swiftly moves into a secure airlane for VIPs, government, and military traffic. Cardona is virtually an entirely new city after the ruin of the War of the Lion and the Occupation. It's monolithic office towers, sterile corporate architecture, grey apartment towers, and busy highways have been replaced. Most major roads have been relocated into underground tunnels. The hundred-story apartment towers have been rebuilt and repaired, and their rooftops now hold gardens. Ornate columns, fountains, and facades have replaced the sheer glass walls of government offices, and the entire city seems a weird mix of modern conveniences and technology mixed with Imperial architecture and design.

The aircar approaches a rooftop landing bay on the side of one skyscraper, slowly settling to the floor. The hangar floor was duracrete of course, but had been redone to appear like seamless marble. Mr. Baker and a ceremonial guard led Captain Luanda through the various passageways and halls before coming to a lift. The elevator sped up towards the top of the skyscraper, followed by a short trip down another hall, and then finally the trio came to a halt before a set of wooden doors.

"If you'll wait here a moment, I'll inform the Archduke of your arrival." Mr. Baker cracked open the door a bit and stuck his head into the office. "Sir? The LRR representative has arrived."

"He'll see you now."

The doors swung open, and Captain Luanda was ushered into Teschen's spacious office. One wall was completely dominated by a window offering a spectacular view of Cardona, and a black banner emblazoned with the Dragon and Star hung from one wall. The archduke, a grey haired man, with a kindly expression and finely tailored clothes, rose from his desk. "Welcome, welcome. I trust your trip was without undue hassle? Can I offer you something to drink?"

Barely an hour later, Kayyam finds himself escorted through the vast hallways of the Imperial Congressional Building, opposite from the Imperial Palace on the island that dominates the center of the river bisecting New Koln. There is an uneasiness throughout the Congressional Building, and the members of the Congress of Lords fill the hallways in their formal robes and uniforms. They filter in and out of secure committee rooms, smaller “cloakrooms”, private conference areas, and smaller open lobbies. The conversations are mostly in Imperial German, Dominionite Japanese, or Old Russia. But clips of conversation can still be heard in Imperial English, although Wilhelm’s and Kayyam’s conversation stick out against the background of the Empire’s most formal languages.

“I apologize for the rush, Captain,” Wilhelm says. “However, my mother is having to supervise matters of the Lords more so than she would like. The Verniians have chosen to be difficult, and their recent rounds of armament agreements with several nations in the Talbott Cluster are causing no end of conflict in our own affairs.”

Wilhelm approaches another wooden door, dark and reflecting of years of careful maintenance and polish. It is flanked on either side by a pair of Sovereign Protectors, a slight difference in rank insignia the only difference between their own bold deep crimson and gold uniforms and the two escorting Wilhelm and Kayyam.

The door suddenly opens as Wilhelm approaches it, a radiant woman with long brown hair steps out, dressed in a flowing robe. For one second she appears taken back by Wilhelm’s presence, but she recovers quickly.

“My Prince,” she says with a graceful bow of her head.

“Lady Rolt,” Wilhelm nods in returns. “Allow me to introduce Captain Kayyam, of the LRR merchant marine.”

“A pleasure, Captain, however I must beg yours and the Prince’s pardon for the moment. The caucus is about to end and I must return to the chambers. The day has not gone as I had hoped.”

“The Centrists intend to propose a tariff increase then?”

“They will not be sated. And this time von Richter is actually making sense. The Verniians aren’t helping matters either. We’ve stayed the Augustgrad Union and the Greater Raumreich from supporting formal sanctions, but the same cannot be said for making the Verniians pay for using the junction for weapons transfers. That is a battle the Government will lose.”

Wilhelm nods, “Do what you can. I will be in the chambers momentarily.”

The Prime Minister of Valinon nods once again.

“A pleasure, once again, Captain,” she says and moves rapidly down the hall.

Wilhelm breathes heavily.

“Shall we?” he says and opens the door.

The room is surprisingly spartan in nature, only a long table, a few well-appointed, but simple chairs, and a handful of subdued landscapes. Sitting behind the table, hands moving rapidly over the small keypad attached the comp-pad, is a woman with vivid red-gold hair. She is dressed in a rather plain, jade green dressed that flows around her lithe form. Her head moves upward revealing a pair of stunning blue eyes, and she quickly stops her work and smiles.

“Mother, Captain Kayyam, representing the interests and concerns of the government of the LRR.”

“Ah, Captain,” she says, standing with a practice grace. “Please, have a seat. It has been sometime since House Alderman has entertained representatives of the LRR.”

**********

Einarsson disembarks the shuttle, instantly thankful for the feel of the Flickinger field surrounding his body. The sky of Grayson is simply off. A paradise to the eyes, the human mind simply seems to know that something is….wrong with the planet. The ambassador feels an innate feeling of sympathy for the Graysons pass through him as he witnesses the masqueraded hell in which they have been forced to live.

Over the shoulders of the pair foremost pair of Sardaukar serving as his honor guard, Einarrson sees the woman waiting on behalf of the Protectorate no doubt. Her image is not one that was in his dossier, but with the still somewhat erratic nature between communication between the Inner Marches and the Cluster that is to be expected.

He approaches her with his carefully regulated stride, and adaptation for years of living with people shorter than himself. The Sardaukar remain at their rigid, emotionless attention. A factor Einnarsson appreciates at a deep level engrained from his own years in the service.

***********

“Twice in the history of the Raumreich the nation of Vernii—under whatever guise it’s government chooses to assume—has made unprovoked war upon the nations of Valinon and its allies. This is a factor that cannot be ignored.”

After finally putting to bed the issue of sanctions upon Verniian trade through the junction, thankfully failed, Baron Gunther von Richter had taken the floor. Diedre Rolt follows the fiery movements of the aged Grossgeneralfeldmarschall at the speakers podium before the ranks of the Government officials. This matter will not be easily defeated, and Diedre allows her eyes to drift over the ranks of the peerage. Centrists, Augustgrad Unionists, Greater Raumreichers, and even some within the ranks of the United Lords support the measures von Richter will soon put before the Lords.

“Thankfully we have finally managed to cow the group of rebels, dissidents, and war-mongers that fill the city of Cardona in the last half-century. But now that they can no longer dare to follow the means of true warfare the ungrateful step-children in Gregor seek to still threaten the security, the stability, and the existence of the Vaterland and its allies! The government of the self-styled “Emperor” Calimar now threatens the security of the entire Raumreich be openly exporting weapons into the hands of any state that can offer him the right price. This cannot be tolerated!”

Rolt sees Sterling grimace, and many others join him. Von Richter reaches the podium and grabs a packet of formal, archaic hard copy documentation.

“The dedicated members of the Centrists, supported by representatives of all parties within this Congress, will not allow inaction were it can threaten the very existence of the Star Empire! This proposals represents a consensus from all parties in the Congress, representatives from all of Her Majesty’s Dominions, and echoed with support from the citizens of the Realm!”

Partially because the Centrists press has blown the situation wholly out of proportion Diedre adds in the sanctity of her own mind. But there can be no escape from this, the Verniians have moved in a way that even Friedelinde Alderman cannot save them from their own stupidity. As has been the case since the end of the Occupation, the Centrists and the Imperium have been locked in a battle of wills that neither has yet won.

“If the Verniians wish to ship weapons and threaten the security of the Raumreich, then let them pay for it! Let them pay for it with their very teeth if necessary! If they will not challenge our power in the field of true honor, then let us return their own disgusting challenge in the arena where they can fill it the most! At this time the Centrist Coalition and its co-sponsors submit to the members of the Congress a proposal to raise tariffs on all Verniian-based shipping throughout the junction system by twenty percent of their current levels. On behalf of all parties involved, I now move that this proposal be entered into today’s docket as proposed bill number 11134-A1.”

Diedre stands at her own position, “The chair has at this time received a motion to enter a new proposal to the docket of this body. Is there a second?”

A flurry of indications bombarded the Lords electronic systems, Centrists, Unionists, Raumreichers, and New Men stand ready to support the bill.

“Is there any opposition to this entrance of this proposal?”

The earlier barrage is answered by a far smaller barrage from the United Lord and Raumreichers. It is a desperate attempt to forestall the inevitable, but one that must be undertaken in order to assert the Government’s position.

“Seeing opposition at this time the Chair will select two pro and two con speakers for a limited debate not to exceed five minutes for either side. Speaking in favor? The Honorable Baron von Richter and His Grace Archduke Metternicht. Speaking against? The Honorable Lord Adonis and The Honorable Archduchess Skye."

And the almost Byzantine world of Lord politics continues.

"No, thankyou. I wouldn't have much use for drink," says Luanda with a chuckle. "As you are surely aware, our two nations have had their ups and downs. One day we're attacking you, the next day we're building you ships. My government, or rather my nation, has always jumped around."

Luanda pauses for a moment and looks around the office. It is certainly impressive, and not much different from the nice offices found on the artificial planets in the Neu Wirlde system, although there are usually a good deal more homely touches. As to the LRR government jumping around, not much could be closer to the truth. Considering that the robots that make up the parliament spend most of the day skanking (not as dirty as it might sound), they don't accomplish much besides making themselves very happy.

"We would definately like to normalize relations with Vernii here. Valinon too. It is in our interest, you see, as much as anyone else, to keep conflicts from happening."



Meanwhile, Captain Kayyam takes a seat in the office. While he would have been fine standing, as his being a robot makes him immune to all but the most intense fatigues, it always seems to be more polite to take a seat when its offered. Takes the edge off, so to speak.

"I believe it has...not for a few years. We've had something of an introspective period lately. I don't believe that we've ever entertained Valinor delegates in the Neu Wirlde...eh...although the atmosphere tends to be a little casual for many tastes."

Teschen leaned back in his chair, "Yes, of course, we also desire normalized relations. Our image in the galactic community took a rather serious beating when the People's Republic went to war last. The first battles of the war may have been massive victories, but in doing so we lost the PR war, and then the war itself. So yes, our reputation suffered, especially in the diplomatic community when one of our ambassadors, driven to madness by stress and worry, shot the Valinor ambassador to Knootoss. The Imperium would like to put all that unpleasantness behind it, in the past where it rightly belongs, and reclaim its place of honor in galactic affairs."

He smiled wryly, "Not to mention trade partners are always desirable."

"Certainly. I've never been a big fan of war. That's one of the reasons for Robotstan's isolation in recent years. We didn't, and still don't want to get involved in them. But when it takes place relatively close by, and between nations we respect, it is a major problem that must be solved quickfast. But first, I must apologize that the Robotic cluster has kept somewhat insulated from the goings-on in other parts of the galaxy, especially this region. Could you perhaps summarize recent history?"

BEGIN TRANSMISSION

To: Whom it may concern
From: Earnest T. Baldwin, Head of Public Relations and Administrative Negotiation for the Tiber CorporationDuke
Subject: Reopening of Morning Star Relations
Encryption: PL X-32/marla

We apologize for the lack of an ambassidor as tensions are high and we would not like to risk a conflict. By now you already know of the recent change in leadership within the nation of Liberated New Hope from Prime Guardian Samul Hudan to Admiral Merryweather Setties after a recent forceful overthrow of our government.

In light of the Admirals pro-Vernii policies and breaking from alliances with the United Star Empire of Valinon, we, the Corporation of TiberCorp, have lifted Liberated New Hope's governmental protection from our company and are now seeking other means of growth, developement, and allegiance.

Humbly, we seek your help. We have no "military" might and lack a navy of any kind and ask for advice and support. Should you accept our request, we will send more a more detailed message in reply.

END TRANSMISSION

"Well, it's been fifty years since Vernii was occupied by the Valinor for about ten years after the War of the Lion. Then they withdrew, although they retain control over the Gregor-Alpha Centauri wormhole link. Not that they really lost anything, they annexed the Falasmayon system of Archangel. The exiled heirs and surviving members of our government were able to return home, and the Imperium was founded. Six years later, they withdrew from Acler. The planet held a plebiscite in which 75% of the population voted to join the Imperium. Two years after that was the First Boroglian War. They declared war on us, and won several of the initial engagements, but in the end our superior industrial machine pushed them back. We stripped them of every system except for Boroglia itself, because the Kriegsmarine intervened in their favor. The Boroglian Ascendancy collasped and the Aristocras were overthrown by a military junta calling itself the "United Directorate". Six months later, they declared war on us, attacked Stocurm, and were routed. Valinon ignored their pleas for assistance, and we crushed what was left of their fleet. Boroglia is now another territory of the Imperium.

Our allies, the Wickian Commonwealth, haven't fairednearly as well. Six years ago, the Ortagans invaded Thetis and seized the system. The Wickians fled to Ticonderoga, and we took in some refugees as well. The largest news in the Raumreich right now is the newly discovered Alpha Centauri-Yeltsin's Star wormhole link, which opens up dozens of inhabited systems to economic development. Unfortunately, the Valinor have the easiest access to it."

"I will take your word for it, at least for now, Captain," Friedelinde says with a warm smile. "Tell me though, Captain, what brings you and your ship to Alpha Centauri? LRR has been absent from the Raumreich as of late, certainly not without cause after the errant and stupid actions by the Aumanii during the War of the Lion."

**********

To: Herr Earnest T. Baldwin, Head of Public Relations and Administrative Negotiation for the Tiber Corporation
From: Duke Adrian Sterling, First Minister for Her Majesty's Foreign Affairs
Subject: Reopening of Morning Star Relations
Encryption: DS Priority-Three Alpha-Alpha-Rho

Her Majesty, Empress Friedelinde Alderman I, and Her Majesty's Government are sympathetic to the daunting issues faced by the Tiber Corporation. Often times we have seen the brutish nature with which affairs closer to the Great March are undertaken. However, the position of Morning Star is a delicate one, especially in regards to the continuing attempt to maintain the balance of peace between the United Star Empire and its allies and the Verniian Imperium.

It is the opinion of Her Majesty, Prime Minister the Lady Diedre Rolt, and myself that such assistance to the Tiber Corporation may be most effective if it is initially discreet in nature. Therefore, I would invite yourself, along with other appropriate representatives of the Tiber Corporation, to join myself and First Star Lord the Lady Katherine Adonis in Yalta to more fully discuss these matters.

**********

"Here we are, sir," Vince Turner nods to the Sardaukar who opened the aero-car's door for him as he collected his attache case. The dwelling before him was modest, reinforcing his opinion that although Earl Cavegn may have provided for his illegitmate son he had certainly kept the nature of his support discreet.

"Thank you, Stabsunteroffizer. I do not intend to take long, if you and your men would just be so kind as to wait here."

"Yes, sir."

With that Turner walks toward the house, he stands before the door and looks into the scanner for the AI.

"I am Vince Turner, representing the firm of Reimann, Devenoge, and Kestenholz and the estate of Earl Markus Cavegn, here to see Herr Erwin Conrad on a matter of urgent importance."

Turner waits patiently for the AIs response, banking on his Valinor accent and terse manner to raise enough interests to elicit a fast response.

**********



His Majesty, Emperor Alexis Calimar, Sovereign of the Verniian Imperium

Your Majesty,

It is my duty to inform you that the Verniian Imperium's intent to continue policies of liberalized and perhaps indiscreet weapons proliferation have forced Her Majesty and Her Majesty's Government to take action.

In order to protect both the safety, security, and stability of the United Star Empire and the entirety of the Raumreich international community, the Congress of Lords have levied an additional tariff on Verniian shipping throughout the Greater Raumreich Wormhole Junction Network under the jurdistiction of the Star Empire. This increase in tariffs will be used to fund the additional security measures that will be necessary in light of this weapons proliferation.

As it stands in the resolution passed by the Congress of Lords, the tariff on Verniian shipping will be raised from .008 imperial marks per metric ton to .016 imperial marks per metric ton. As per the duties of my office, I will convey any remarks or wishes of redress you may have to Imperial Centre.

With regards,
Lord Peter Bergen
Her Majesty's Ambassador to the Imperium of Vernii and Fifth Minister for Her Majesty's Foreign Affairs

Erwin Conrad's house AI was a Markham Electronic's M-5 "Alfred". It was one of their cheaper models, capable of limited decision making. It had no holoprojectors, so the only way it could communicate was by hidden speakers, or by projecting a nu-space avatar of itself if its owner happened to be logged in.

At present, Erwin was relaxing on his couch, watching the History Channel's documentary on the First Vernii-Valinon War. An R-10 household robot quietly vacuumed the floor behind him, controlled by an extension of Alfred. "Sir?"

"Yes Alfred?"

"A man is here, Vince Turner, he claims to be representing the firm of Reimann, Devenoge, and Kestenholz and the estate of Earl Markus Cavegn."

"Never heard of him. Did he say what he wanted?"

"No."

"Well, go ahead and let him in."

Erwin lifted up his remote and muted the television, then got up and walked into the foyer as the front door swung open.

"Uh...Hi. You wanted to see me?"

***


To: Lord Bergen, Her Majesty's Ambassador

I regret the rash and provocative action that the Congress of Lords has chosen to embark upon. While disappointing, this act of economic hostility was not surprising, judging by the Centrists' stances on Vernii and the Federation. It is not surprising that such a party would be against one of their neighbors being given the tools they need to defend themselves against potential aggressors. Nor does it surprise me, that a party that supported an annexation proposal of the Federation would be against the same people they wished to prey upon being given the capacity to defend themselves. What else could be expected of a political party that proudly considers the Butcher of Markham as one of its members?

I hold no hostility against Her Majesty for this, as I realize that she is of a reasonable nature and political necessity called for her to not oppose the tariff bill. Please convey my hope to her that reason and moderate thinking will be restored to the Congress of Lords in the future.

With respect,
Emperor Alexis Calimar, Imperium of Vernii

"Yes, Herr Conrad I did," Turner says with a curt nod. "For starters allow me to apologize for the lack of forewarning of my visit. But under the circumstances it was required into maintained the necessary discreet nature this matter must be addressed with in its initial stages."

"Secondly it is necessary for me to outline the reasons why I am here. Would it be possible for me to come in for a few moments, Herr Conrad. I am afraid the issues I have to discuss with you may cause considerable surprise and alarm of the moment. And I would also feel more comfortable not discussing them in the open. Once again I apologize for my presumptions regarding this matter, and if you have prior engagements I understand as well. However, I would ask you hear me out as this pertains to a very....special inheritance you have recently come into."

"Um sure, come on in." He lead the way to the living room as the house AI shut the front door behind Turner. "Have a seat, would you like anything to drink?"

Turner takes a seat and places his attache case in his lap. He removes a small comp-pad and its stylus.

"Perhaps later, Herr Conrad, for now business. Tell me, and one again I apologize for the brashness of this matter, do you know anything about your father?"

"Hm, that's a bit of an uncomfortable subject. I never knew him. I know that he met my mother while working for the Adonis administration in Cardona, but I don't know if he was Verniian or Valinor. That's about it. I'm guessing he was at least moderately wealthy, since he left behind funds for my use. I'm also guessing this unexpected visit is related to him in some fashion."

"Then we have a considerable amount of area to cover. And my visit is very much related to your father," Turner says and he hits a sequence on the screen of his comp-pad. A hologram of a older man wearing a rather plain three piece suit hovers in front of Turner.

"Unfortunately Earl Cavegn become increasingly private in recent decades. I do not have a recent image of him, and this one was taken approximately fifteen years after the Star Empire withdrew from Gregor."

Turner sets the comp-pad down, allowing the image to remain floating above the table.

"Herr Conrad, your father was most decidedly a Valinor. And I offer you my condolences before I go further because your father died quite recently, of natural causes. Even the Star Empire's gene baths can only carry an individual so far. Your father...." Turner pauses for a moment, wetting his lips.

"Your father was Markus Cavegn, the Earl of Rosario. The Earl has long been a client of the Reimann, Devenoge, and Kestenholz firm, which is why I am representing them. And he left specific instructions to us on how to proceed in the days following his death. This included the opening of a safety deposit box at the Port Rosario branch of the Crown and Sword Banking Group. In this deposit box was the last draft of His Grace's will, which addressed what has been a long-standing concern to the Congress of Lords and House Alderman--namely the lack of a Cavegn heir. Herr Conrad, by direct blood relation you are the heir to the title of Earl of Rosario. I have here," Turner's hand move back into his attache case, "documentation from the BioDyne Corporation proving a perfect match between your own DNA and that of Earl Cavegn."

"I have been sent here to carry out the instruction of His Grace. By contract Reimann, Devenoge, and Kestenholz are to help you oversee the transition of your assets to the Star Empire, integrate yourself into the Star Empire's Diet, and serve as your legal consul for a period of at least five years. At the end of five years from February 20, 1215 you may chose to renew or not renew the services of Reimann, Devenoge, and Kestenholz. I am also supposed to inform you that Lord Peter Bergen, Her Majesty's Ambassador to Vernii, would like to extend an invitation to dinner. I would recommend this highly, while I will of course answer any questions I can here, Lord Bergen is a experienced and very astute individual. And I believe he can answer more of the questions pertaining to the duties you are now in line to assume."

Turner lapses into silence, watching Conrad with cool, business-like eyes.

Erwin was obviously rather stunned by the story. He stared blankly at Mr. Turner for a few moments, and then spoke very slowly. "So....I'm the new Earl of Rosario? Seriously, holy crap. I mean, seriously!" He trailed off after that, and then finally spoke something more comprehensible. "So he had no other children?"

He stared into the holo of the late Earl. "My friends are never going to believe this. Hell, Mary won't either.", referring to his girlfriend of two years. "So...what assets are we talking about here? And yes, I'll accept Lord Bergen's invitation, but how would I go about informing him?"

"I outlined to Lord Bergen the nature of your position before I came here, and also emphasized the need for discretion. Needless to say there are some parties and interests that will take offense to the nature of your ascendancy to the title."

Turner offers a slight smile, "As four your assets, Herr Conrad, the Cavegn family has the wealth and accumulation of possessions that any permanent member of the Star Empire's Peerage tends to accquire. Most notable among them is ownership of twelve percent of the stock of the United Valinon Media Corporation, which operated the United Valinon News Network among other things. Earl Cavegn also left you a plethora of interests in the ship-building industry--Twin Star Lines to be specific--additional stock holdings in the mining industry, a sizeable stake in the Crown and Sword Banking Group, and a good eight percent of the Reich Entertainment Group, Limited. I assume that you are familiar with the Reich Hotel in Cardona, yes?"

"That excludes hard assets, land grants and holdings from Her Majesty and Her Majesty's ancestors. The Cavegn ancestral estate near Port Rosario. AS well as a few other residences on both Pholus and on the Isle of Dexmamenus on Proxima."

"Before we move to join Lord Bergen, there are some matters I wish to address first. While you will receive the title of Earl of Rosario the moment we can clear affairs at Reimann, Devenoge, and Kestenholz's offices in New Koln the seat in the Lords is another matter. The nature of your inheritance will mean your seat will have to be reconfirmed before the rest of the Peerage, which may prove to be quite interesting and also quite tiresome."

"Finally there is the matter of your last name. Of which I feel Lord Bergen may better explain the nature of this factor, but basically you would do well to consider a change of your surname, Herr Conrad."

Turner returns the comp-pad to his attache case, and extends a hand, "If you feel like you can, Herr Conrad, I have an aero-car with an escort from the embassy waiting. We may leave for the embassy as soon as you feel like it."

"Well, it's been fifty years since Vernii was occupied by the Valinor for about ten years after the War of the Lion. Then they withdrew, although they retain control over the Gregor-Alpha Centauri wormhole link. Not that they really lost anything, they annexed the Falasmayon system of Archangel. The exiled heirs and surviving members of our government were able to return home, and the Imperium was founded. Six years later, they withdrew from Acler. The planet held a plebiscite in which 75% of the population voted to join the Imperium. Two years after that was the First Boroglian War. They declared war on us, and won several of the initial engagements, but in the end our superior industrial machine pushed them back. We stripped them of every system except for Boroglia itself, because the Kriegsmarine intervened in their favor. The Boroglian Ascendancy collasped and the Aristocras were overthrown by a military junta calling itself the "United Directorate". Six months later, they declared war on us, attacked Stocurm, and were routed. Valinon ignored their pleas for assistance, and we crushed what was left of their fleet. Boroglia is now another territory of the Imperium.

Our allies, the Wickian Commonwealth, haven't fairednearly as well. Six years ago, the Ortagans invaded Thetis and seized the system. The Wickians fled to Ticonderoga, and we took in some refugees as well. The largest news in the Raumreich right now is the newly discovered Alpha Centauri-Yeltsin's Star wormhole link, which opens up dozens of inhabited systems to economic development. Unfortunately, the Valinor have the easiest access to it."

"I see. Well, as I suspect another diplomat is doing in Valinon, I wonder if you would be interested in a conference with the Valinor? As you have probably seen, we Robotstanis have a taste for conferences. Ideally, we would like you and the Valinor to make up. After all, if we can engineer a lasting settlement and promises of peace, we can avoid habitual conflict. We would like to take the edge off, so to speak."

Luanda adjusts the collar on his suit, somewhat unsure of what Teschen's response will be.

"I will take your word for it, at least for now, Captain," Friedelinde says with a warm smile. "Tell me though, Captain, what brings you and your ship to Alpha Centauri? LRR has been absent from the Raumreich as of late, certainly not without cause after the errant and stupid actions by the Aumanii during the War of the Lion."

"I have come to, firstly, ask about trade relations with the Star Empire. The Robotic Cluster survives by shipping, and any new markets are most desirable. Secondly, I have come to ask if you would be interested in a conference with Vernii, and perhaps other parties if you desire. I must apologize beforehand, however, as Robotstan has never been terribly elegant in its diplomatic pursuits. So...er...if this is unacceptable or inconsequential, please say so, but we would like to smooth out relations between the Imperium and the Star Empire as best as possible."

If it had been physically possible, Erwin's jaw would have hit the floor. Yeah, there was definitely no way his friends would believe this.

He looked down at his clothes. He certainly didn't look his best. "Uh, give me a moment to go change, and then I'll be ready." He got up from the couch and hurried to his bedroom. Ten minutes later, he emerged, freshly shaven, combed, and wearing a business suit. "Well, shall we go?"

***

Teschen was caught a bit off-guard by the proposal. "Well, while I won't immediately reject the idea, I don't know what there is to discuss. The only major problem between the Imperium and the Star Empire is the wormhole linking us, and that's more of a trade dispute. There are no real military flashpoints anymore except for perhaps the Morning Star system, and that's a local dispute between a pro-Verniian government and a breakaway faction. If there's something the Valinor feel the need to discuss, I'll accept it, but I can't think of anything."

Teschen was caught a bit off-guard by the proposal. "Well, while I won't immediately reject the idea, I don't know what there is to discuss. The only major problem between the Imperium and the Star Empire is the wormhole linking us, and that's more of a trade dispute. There are no real military flashpoints anymore except for perhaps the Morning Star system, and that's a local dispute between a pro-Verniian government and a breakaway faction. If there's something the Valinor feel the need to discuss, I'll accept it, but I can't think of anything."

"Ok. Er, oh yes, trade."

Luanda would look a bit anxious if he was able to display facial emotion.

Koenig respectfully returned Commodore Bagwell's salute. "Permission granted."

He nodded toward the People's Navy ensign on the boat bay bulkhead, "The decoration is a bit out of date, but the Albion and the other two starships are space worthy once again."

He cleared his throat, then stepped to attention, "I am authorized by the Emperor to formally transfer ownership of the dreadnought Albion and battle cruisers Thunderchild and Provocant to the Grayson Navy. I am also authorized by the Emperor to offer my services to the Grayson Navy as an advisor and training officer."

Admiral Koenig saluted again, smiling. "Congratulations on your new command Commodore."

“Thank you sir, we shall make great use of it I assure you.” Bagwell stated before continuing, “I once served as a tactical officer onboard the C.N.S Hammer in before I was given my own command, there is nothing more exciting or fearsome then the hell a ship of the wall can unleash.” A statement that both officers had experienced first hand in the War of the Lion.

“Well I do not see any reason to tilly tally around here any longer, If you would Captain, take us out of the system to the terminus to AC.” Bagwell told the Verniian captain who was in command of the skeleton crew that manned the large warship.

Friedelinde leans back in her chair, hand moving slowly toward her face. Her chin moves to rest on the L shaped formation created by her thumb and her index finger.

"The matter of trade is not at all that difficult, Captain. If memory serves me correctly there was at one time a free trade agreement negotiated between the Star Empire and the LRR. I believe it was under the reign of my grandfather, the first Emperor Gustav. And I believe it was allow to lapse in the era following the War of the Lion. I think it would be easy to merely consider that treaty renewed and have this matter settle. Your nation's acknowledgement of our restrictions and regulations regarding the terminii at Yeltsin will merely be extend to apply to all traffic that comes through the junction terminii held by the Star Empire. I assure you they are no more excessive than the ordinary customs and dues of any other nation."

"As for the matter of relations between the Star Empire and the Imperium," Friedelinde inclines her head, "frankly, Captain, relations between ourselves and the Verniians are at the best they have been in years. There some minor tensions over our continued control of the Gregor end of the wormhole terminus, but even that seems to have ebbed in recent years. I suppose we might meet to discuss a policy of mutual non-interference in Morning Star, and perhaps mutual policy to not formally expand into the Talbott Cluster. But other than that I'm afraid there are no real matters to discuss. However, if the Imperium feels the need for a conference I will of course be willing to send an appropriate representative."

**********

Turner nods, "Right this way, Herr Conrad."

With that Turner walks with Conrad toward the awaiting aero-car and two hovering grav-bikes manned by Sardaukar. The Sardaukar waiting at the aero-car's door opens it as Conrad and Turner approaches and clicks his heels together smartly.

"Your Grace," he says and inclines his head.

Turner smiles faintly again, and slides into the aero-car after Conrad. It ascends rapidly and heads toward the Star Empire's embassy in Cardona.

**********

The Ministry of Foreign Affairs' Diplomatic Service posting to Gregor was now something of a favored position among the Star Empire's diplomats. It and the office of the ambassador to Vakutu now often vied with one another for the premiere posting in the Raumreich, ever since relations between Alpha Centauri and Roum had started to cool.

The aero-car carrying Turner and Conrad drifts lazily downward to land in front of the embassy's main entrance. The embassy is a somewhat subdued building, from the front it seemed almost minute. But it extend back a considerable ways, and there was more than a few outbuildings serving as the home for the embassy's security personnel and minor officials that chose to live on the extensive and well-manicured grounds.

A gentlemen with a pronounced widow's peak and an almost skeletal face stands on the stairs leading up to the embassy's main door with a casaul grace. He approaches Turner and Conrad as the Sardaukar once again opens the door.

"Ah, Herr Turner I see you have returned," his eyes drift toward Conrad. "And it seems that you did not suffer a seizure of some sort either, Herr Conrad. For that I am very thankful. But perhaps we shall retire indoors? I have my chef preparing something appropriate for dinner, and I think a little bit of normalcy may be good for all parties involved here."

Lord Peter Bergen (http://www.starwars.ntrnet.pl/kirtanloor.jpg)

Valinor Embassy in Cardona, Main Building (http://homepage.ntlworld.com/g.blaikie/anderstona.jpg)

Friedelinde leans back in her chair, hand moving slowly toward her face. Her chin moves to rest on the L shaped formation created by her thumb and her index finger.

"The matter of trade is not at all that difficult, Captain. If memory serves me correctly there was at one time a free trade agreement negotiated between the Star Empire and the LRR. I believe it was under the reign of my grandfather, the first Emperor Gustav. And I believe it was allow to lapse in the era following the War of the Lion. I think it would be easy to merely consider that treaty renewed and have this matter settle. Your nation's acknowledgement of our restrictions and regulations regarding the terminii at Yeltsin will merely be extend to apply to all traffic that comes through the junction terminii held by the Star Empire. I assure you they are no more excessive than the ordinary customs and dues of any other nation."

"As for the matter of relations between the Star Empire and the Imperium," Friedelinde inclines her head, "frankly, Captain, relations between ourselves and the Verniians are at the best they have been in years. There some minor tensions over our continued control of the Gregor end of the wormhole terminus, but even that seems to have ebbed in recent years. I suppose we might meet to discuss a policy of mutual non-interference in Morning Star, and perhaps mutual policy to not formally expand into the Talbott Cluster. But other than that I'm afraid there are no real matters to discuss. However, if the Imperium feels the need for a conference I will of course be willing to send an appropriate representative."

"Alright. Um...well, i've never been terribly well informed. As for trade, your proposal looks fine. I'm sure we can work with any restrictions that are in place. Perhaps you'd like to tour one of our heavy freighters some time. They're very nice. In fact, as a show of our gratitude for, well, not destroying us during the War of the Lion, Robotstan being somewhat lacking on the military front, we could build you one. I have to admit, though, that my visit here was intended mostly as a way to give the cluster something to do, so to speak."

Teschen smiled. He was the Minister of Commerce after all, and trade was a language he understood very well. "That is of course, the matter you were invited here for, the idea of a trade agreement between our respective nations. Vernii of course, has many products to offer Robotstan, primarily industrial, but a large amount of civilian products as well. Our companies are also interested in finding out what your nation has to offer on the export market."

***

Captain White, the daughter of another naval officer who had served in the War of the Lion, led Koenig and Bagwell to the bridge. It was rather spacious as far as warship bridges went, with a raised command chair, several holoplots, and a central holographic viewing display that at the moment showed Vernii and its orbital traffic. The bridge was fully staffed, even if the rest of the ship was running with a minimum complement. "Inform our escorts and STC that we are breaking orbit."

"Aye Ma'am." came Helm's response.

The massive dreadnought and its two smaller consort battlecruisers swung up out of orbit, and brought their accel up to 450 Gs for the short trip to the Gregor-Alpha Centauri Terminus.

Of course, no one had expected that they would transit without hassle, and so STC was force to clear a path for them through traffic. Several liners and freighters changed course for Vernii, to either sit in holding orbit or dock with one of the multiple stations while they waited for the coming mess to sort itself out.

***

"Ah, hello. You're Lord Bergen I assume? It's a great honor, and I thank you for the invitation." Erwin was obviously rather nervous, having never been in such prestigious company, although he was trying not to show it.

***
Two Weeks Earlier
Endicott had never fully recovered from the Occupation. The fourth world of the Gregor system had never been a great place to live, and its primary commercial activity was mining. A high altitude Dendreon Mining surveyor had located a fantastic source of dense metal underneath a mountain, and a ground team had been dispatched before the day was out.

They'd found large metal doors guarding an access into the mountain, doors that had a symbol emblazoned on them. A symbol anyVerniian would recognize, even without the lettering.

http://tadspot.typepad.com/tadspot/images/nightwatch-thumb.jpg

"I would loathe to be the cause of any conflicts between yourself and your government, Captain," Friedelinde says with a somber expression. "I assure you, gratitude is enough. Whatever form your government chooses to express it in is entirely up to them. I will considered the renewed relationship between Valinon and Robotstan sufficent enough for my tastes. However, I am sure more than a few members of the Kriegsmarine will leap at the chance to see a new ship of the LRR service."

There is a knowing smile spreading across the Empress of Valinon's face, "The least of which would not be my son."

Wilhelm has barely moved since he and Kayyam entered the room, and he merely nods at his mother's words.

"It would be an honor to tour your ship, Captain."

**********

"Think nothing of it," Bergen says with a dismissive wave as he leads Turner and Conrad through the door being held open by a pair of Sardaukar, resplendent in their dress uniforms. "I believe this has to be covered under the duties of my office, Herr Conrad. Especially considering your current...unique stature. And even if it wasn't, I would feel obligated to do it after Herr Turner informed me of what has happened. I have been in Vernii long enough to know that despite what some think there are still many differences between Alpha Centauri and Gregor."

He continues to lead them through the marble halls of the embassy, "I thought we would dine in my own rooms. The dining hall here is somewhat excessive for anything but entertaining guests of state."

The halls take on a more intimate and warm look as they move back, the pictures and decor moving to the tastes of Bergen--his tastes reflect agricultural realm of the Vaterland that centers on the province of Valprieza. He opens a door into a room overlooking the gardens, dominated by a table and six chairs. A stiff-backed manservant straightens quickly as the door is opened, disengaging from his task of setting the table.

"Sir, I apologize I did not realize that your-."

"Don't worry about it, Edgar. This is not to be all that formal. Herr Turner did not cause some sort of medical fiasco tonight, and I would hate to do so. But if you would please a glass of Scotch for myself. And," he turns to Turner and Conrad, "what will you two gentlemen have?"

**********

There was a time when the name of Nightwatch had summoned fear throughout the Raumreich. Even the Ortagan Hegemony dared not cross its agents, and certainly the name of the Ministry of External State Security's most dreaded division would never be forgotten by the citizens of Vernii--who for so long suffered under the "tender" mercies of Nightwatch during the Occupation.

But times change, and when Gustav II and his mad sister Josephine met their ends on Mars, the resurgence of Nightwatch would be brought to an abrupt close. Apalled by the actions of the Nightwatch, Empress Friedelinde had the agency dismantled. But Hindley Morthmann, then the Director of the ESS as well as the head of Nightwatch, saw the end coming. He and the eight Oberstgruppenfuehrers of the Nightwatch AufsichtcAusschuß made to make their escape, as well as delete as many records of possible as their activites and the list of their personnel.

No complete list of the Nightwatch still remains, although there are large fragments. The Oberstgruppenfuehrers were not all so lucky and making their own disappearing act work. Three were arrested trying to leave Valinon, and shortly after were tried and executed for "war crimes and high treason." One was killed when the ship he was trying to flee in was shot down by a Vaku destroyer. The other four--Stojsavljevic, head of the Gregor operations; Verge, head of Ortagan operations; Westwood, head of the detention systems; and van Doort, head of the "directed special operations"--eluded the clutches of the Ministry of Internal State Security. Director Morthmann also managed to flee Valinon, and is believed to have found sanctuary within the Ortagan Hegemony.

Although the new leaders of the ESS, the ISS, and the various branches of the Verniian security agencies strive to capture the Nightwatchmen--commanders and mere servants alike--who evaded their initially moves the search produces fewer and fewer results each year. And many of the escaped now feel they are immune from the touches of at the very least Vernii. But such confidence often evaporates when confronted with the unexpected, especially when the unexpected is to be trapped at the very heart of the people you tortured, imprisoned, and paralyzed with fear.

**********

Aaron Heathcliff paces his stateroom aboard the Verniian liner Evening Star relentlessly. Never has so much gone so wrong so quickly in all of his career. He--once an Obersturmbannfuehrer, the vaunted "Phantom of Endicott"--had known no failure, had known no fear. But now Heathcliff knows fear. He knows it every time he gazes out his stateroom's viewports and sees the world rolling beneath him.

Vernii. How in the Twin Suns could he ever manage to get held behind over Vernii. The problems mounting are inconceivable. This was supposed to be the normal routine, ferry the typical correspondences and files between Oberstgruppenfuehrer Verge's offices in Roum, to Westwood in Cardona. Easy, done hundreds of times it seems. Then on to Alpha Centauri for the first time in decades, to take in a performance of Der Archangel at the Frederick Alderman Theater in New Koln. It was supposed to be perfect, a vacation from his life as Douglas Bronte--a well to do Verniian shipping magnet--operation from Acler.

He keeps feeling the eyes of the Verniian intelligence services upon him--real or imagined. Even the ESS could reach him here, for the borders drawn across the stars of the Raumreich are nothing even to today's ESS.

There is a chime that makes him jump into the air, then he realizes it is merely the ship's internal comm service.

"Yes!" he barks, angry at the sound and angry at himself.

"Mr. Bronte, the comm call you requested is ready. Shall I patch it to your link."

"Yes! Yes!" Heathcliff says quickly as he slides the Nu-space neural link into place, still wary of the cranial implants released by Nova Tech some time ago. Then he carefully slides the slender chip into one of the links scomp-links. It's a masking program, among other things, presenting the illusion that he's conferring with his broker in Cardona, when instead he's reaching out in desperation to a man in New Boston.

"Carruthers," comes a weary voice.

"Carruthers, it's Heathcliff. Get up now."

There's a stirring over the link, "It's three in the morning. There had better be a reason for this, Aaron."

"I'm over Vernii is the goddam reason! Worthless, shit-filled, provincial Vernii! And I want to know why."

"What?"

"Vernii dammit! My ship was pulled from the terminus quey days ago. And we've been sitting in orbit ever since."

Silence fills the line.

"How long, Aaron?"

"I don't know. There was something at the terminus, something the Verniian navy did."

A hiss of breath.

"You've been here since the jumped the warships to the Cluster! Have you not seen the news, Aaron."

"UVNN? Of course!"

"No, Aaron. Our news."

"Just the drop from Grendel."

Silence again.

"Aaron, they've found the Ice Cave."

Heathcliff feels his fear implode into a singularity below his stomach, pulling ever fiber of his being downward.

"When."

"Two weeks ago. The IS is keeping it low profile, but we have word from Endicott. Get out, Aaron, get to Kiel. I will meet you at drop point 198. Can you arrange passage back to Acler."

"......."

"Aaron!"

"Yes, yes, of course."

"Good, make arrangements to depart the Star. Make it as loud and as noisy as possible. Make it look like you have nothing to hide. I will see you in Kiel in three days."

Aaron nods as the link is broken, then moves to join the hundreds of passengers that have railed against the unfortunate captain and crew of the Star over the last few days. The ships small Valinor passenger contingent have been outraged since day one. And Aaron fervently wishes he had the idea to disembark in disgust with them. Now he hopes he can move fast enough. He waits for his call to the ship's on-duty officer to be screened as he scans through the list of ships that will depart for Acler before the week is out.

Teschen smiled. He was the Minister of Commerce after all, and trade was a language he understood very well. "That is of course, the matter you were invited here for, the idea of a trade agreement between our respective nations. Vernii of course, has many products to offer Robotstan, primarily industrial, but a large amount of civilian products as well. Our companies are also interested in finding out what your nation has to offer on the export market."

"Robotstan is known primarily for shipping. We actually build very little in the way of manufactured goods, but Robotstani merchants move innumerable tons of them weekly. The Robotic Cluster has some notable natural resource deposits, but nothing special by galactic standards. You might be aware of the Tau system, however. Robotstan essentially controls the spice shipments from there, but the Tau system is not anything major. What Robotstan specializes in is moving goods. We can do this quickly and cheaply, and we have a fair number of pretty impressive freighters that can ship entire fighting vessels.

As for an export market, Robotstan would probably be a limited one, because the human population in the cluster numbers only around a hundred million. But it might be worth a try. If you need ships built, we can build them too. It doesn't cost much, since in Robotstan there aren't nearly as many mouths to feed, so to speak, as in other places. The only problem is the shortage of raw materials I mentioned a little while ago. Perhaps Verniian miners could supply Robotstani shipyards? Eh...otherwise, we will need to know about Verniian labor practices. I assume that you don't use slaves, child workers, and other such nastinesses. Sort of a matter of principle that we don't associate with nations that do."

"I would loathe to be the cause of any conflicts between yourself and your government, Captain," Friedelinde says with a somber expression. "I assure you, gratitude is enough. Whatever form your government chooses to express it in is entirely up to them. I will considered the renewed relationship between Valinon and Robotstan sufficent enough for my tastes. However, I am sure more than a few members of the Kriegsmarine will leap at the chance to see a new ship of the LRR service."

There is a knowing smile spreading across the Empress of Valinon's face, "The least of which would not be my son."

Wilhelm has barely moved since he and Kayyam entered the room, and he merely nods at his mother's words.

"It would be an honor to tour your ship, Captain."

"Well, I must thank you for all you have just done for Robotstan. This meeting, and the one being conducted in parallel with Vernii, will in all probability go a long way in re-introducing the Robotic Cluster to the galactic stage.

And as for the tour, it is an honor to host such a dignified person aboard the Amandrai. I'm sure the crew will be ready whenever you are. Its always nice to have a new face aboard. Perhaps you might even take some design pointers from its construction, although my nation's ships have become increasingly exotic in shape over recent years."

"Oh..umm, I'll just have an iced tea, with sugar please."

***

Kiel contained the most land-based industry on Vernii, and the city architecture seemed to reflect it. In contrast to Cardona's fanciful achitecture, Kiel contained squat factory blocks and monolithic skyscrapers.

Kiel Aerospace Port was built in the same tradition, scorned by architectural critics as a like a Protestant barn to a Catholic cathedral in comparison to Cardona's port. It was low to the ground, passenger terminals made up of bland ceramacrete domes with boarding tubes jutting out from them and surrounded by landing pads. However ugly it may have been, thousands of people moved through it every day, and Customs certainly was kept busy by incoming travellers.

The Customs pavilion itself was built on a grand scale. Hundreds of officials sat in a single row behind a counter that stretched the length of the chamber, and ceiling mounted cameras silently watched the crowds moving through the maze of lines. Small droids mounted with bomb sniffers floated silently overhead.

A customs agent handed back a traveller his ID and passport, and called out "Next, please step forward."


***

"Exporting metals to your nation sounds great. Gregor is rather rich in metallic asteroids and moons, and we certainly have no shortage considering our control over the Expansion Zone. Vernii's largest company in that area of industry is Dendreon Mining. I can let them know you're interested in buying metals from them, they will probably jump at the opportunity to expand internationally."

Bergen arches an eyebrow at Turner, who merely nods his head a fraction.

"A glass of Scotch for myself as well," Turner says. Pulling out his own chair as Edgar pulls out the chair closest to Conrad. Then moves to do the same for Bergen.

"And I will have a glass of water, as to not make Herr Conrad feel completely alone in his act of drinking celibacy," says a flowing voice from behind Conrad.

The man had slid into the room virtually unnoticed, apparently shortly after Bergen had led Turner and Conrad in. Clearly cut from the Dominionite regions of the Star Empire, he is of smaller stature--standing at perhaps five feet seven inches at best. His head is shaved and the strange, electric-blue tatooes of the Dominionite Taoist religion spiral downward from the corners of his mouth. He is dressed in a black, high-collared uniform of an odd cut that bears no insignia or markings. But it is his eyes--or rather the problem with them--that draws attention.

The lids are sunken, obviously too shallow to hold the organs they were meant to. Although the remaining shape suggest some sort of reconstructive surgery so as to not make the man look like a skull with sking conveniently attached. A thin, almost transluscent band is stretched across the sealed lids, and it wraps around the man's entire skull. He leans against a thin black cane, that is also swirled with the array of animals and creatures from the Taoist mythology.

"Ah, Togashi, I was hoping you would join us," Bergen says as he turns to Conrad. "Herr Conrad, allow me to introduce Togashi of Her Majesty's Special Liaison Service."

"It is a pleasure, Herr Conrad," Togashi says in his accented basic, head moving toward the general direction of Bergen and Conrad. "My congratulations on your recent ascendancy to the Peerage. Hopefully it will not pose too many problems for you."

Edgar moves as if to help Togashi, only to be waved off by the Liaison Service agent. He moves with a measured purpose, can sweeping the floor in small arcs as his hand runs over the back of the chair at the opposite end of the table from Bergen. He pulls it out and sits down.

A few second later Edgar emerges again with the drinks, "Dinner will be ready in a few moments, sirs. Herr Togashi, will you have your usual?"

"Yes, Edgar, if you would," Edgar bows and retreats back through the kitchen door.

Bergen takes the first sip of his Scotch, "I have no doubt you have questions, Herr Conrad. And while I do have some things to tell you, I think it might be high time you were allowed to get some words in edgewise yourself. So, what would you like to know?"

**********

Heathcliff removes the older-model sun glasses/data-specs he was wearing and collects his small carry-on off the floor of the Pavilion. He moves forward, reaching under his blazer to pull out the small data chip and IDent card.

He tries to distract himself by following the movements of the 'sniffers in a bemused fashion. Thankful that soon enough he will be able to meet Carruthers and get off this despicable planet. His eyes have already roved across the cityscape, attrocious as he remembers it, and found the vast bulk of the Kiel prison facility is gone. If memory served him correctly, the Verniians had made what was left of the facility into a meusum of sorts. Although after both Adonis and the Verniians had taken their respective bites out of it there was little granduer of the facility left.

He smiles, taking some pleasure in the memories of his last time in Kiel. True it was nothing compared to his assignment on Endicott, but one had to stop somewhere. Momentarily it drifts into his mind that it seems to be taking longer than his validation, but he attributes it to his hasty--and somewhat belligerent--departure from the Evening Star.

He turns back toward the customs agent.

BEGIN TRANSMISSION

To: Adrian Sterling, First Minister for Her Majesty's Foreign Affairs
From: Earnest T. Baldwin, Head of Public Relations and Administrative Negotiation for the Tiber CorporationDuke
Subject: Reopening of Morning Star Relations
Encryption: PL X-32/marla

Herr Sterling, we would like to take you up on your offer of meeting on Yalta. When you specify the time and coordinates we will be abliged to come.

Sadly enough I am currently busied with negotiations with our current official head of state, Admiral Merryweather Setties, and will not be able to attend the meeting. In my stead will be

Samantha of the House of the Setting Star, one of our leading shareholders and cousin to Tiberious IV

Holden T. Stilwell, President and CEO of Cha-Cha Cola's Northern division

and last but not least, Samul Hudan, our presently exiled Prime Guardian who also seeks your help

Current negotiations with Setties are going well and we wish to re-establish our protection under Liberated New Hope's flag, but let it be known that we also wish to keep our freind in the Valinor and are attempting to keep the United Star Empire's interests in mind.

We appreciate your willingness to help and thank you dearly.

END TRANSMISSION

"Exporting metals to your nation sounds great. Gregor is rather rich in metallic asteroids and moons, and we certainly have no shortage considering our control over the Expansion Zone. Vernii's largest company in that area of industry is Dendreon Mining. I can let them know you're interested in buying metals from them, they will probably jump at the opportunity to expand internationally."

"Very good. Eh...again, as long as their labor practices are respectable, we'd be very happy to engage in such a deal. Also, how would you feel about using Robotstani freighters to distribute Verniian goods? We can do it for a very low total cost."

http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=406042

Uhh...Auman's sort of attacking me. Just a heads up. No need to do anything, but just a little information on the suddenly deteriorating state of the Robotic Cluster, which might interrupt trade deals. Fortunately, only one system is under direct attack at this time.

"Well, I'm certain some shipping companies wouldn't mind leasing space on Robotstani freighters, it would save them the cost of owning and operating their own. How much business does your nation do in Sol? Its something of a treasure trove to Verniian corporations, full of consumers with demands for products."

***

"Wow, there's so much I don't know. I was wondering if you could give me an idea as to what my daily political routine might be, and what exactly my responsibilities will entail? Oh yeah, I'll need to become a Valinor citizen won't I? I can become a dual-citizen right?"

Oh yeah, a basic idea of who to avoid would be good, I have a feeling I won't be that popular in the Congress."

***

The Customs agent stared down at the blinking icon next to Heathcliff's picture on his computer screen.

Dangerous Fugitive.

He clicked on the computer to recheck, glancing back up at Heathcliff. "My computer screwed up, I'll have to run it again. Sorry about the wait."

He glanced back down, the icon was still blinking. His hand slipped under the counter and pressed a silent alarm to alert security. He put on an expression of exasperation, "Just a minute sir, I'll need to go get my supervisor to take care of this technical problem." He pressed a button on his keyboard to shift the screen back to desktop.

Bergen sits back for a moment and steeples his fingers, "Political routine is something that varies directly to one's position in the general bureaucracy of the Lords. The Congress of the Lords has two 'regular' sessions, one in the spring and one in the fall. These are more commonly known as the long sessions the one in the spring starts on the first of March and generally runs until the first of May--on the Proximan calendar, which never experiences a leap year. The other starts in the first of September and runs until the first of November. Attendance throughout these sessions is generally recommended as these are the sessions that control legislative and budgetary policy in the Star Empire. But since the implementation of Nu-space this has become a far easier thing to do. I generally attend all voting sessions of the Congress from my office."

Bergen takes a drink, "In between the regular sessions, the Government can also call for any number of emergency or special sessions. Such as we experienced when the Cluster terminus was discovered. If these sessions extend until the start of a regular sessions they are merely incorporated in to the time frame."

"Finally most of the committees that initially handle the Star Empire's legislative affairs meet in the first month of the regular session to set an agenda to pass onto the general assembly. But these committees can also have any number of special sessions and hearings on various issues throughout the year."

"Finally, Herr Conrad," Bergen says with a sigh, "there is the matter of language. All regular sessions of the Congress of Lords are held in a very strict and formal atmosphere. As such only the three 'core' languages of the Star Empire can be spoken during a session. Those langauges are Imperial German, Imperial Swiss, Old Russian, and Dominion Japanese. All documentation and transcripts are recorded in Imperial German. True this is very archaic, but at this point it is not going to change."

"Outside the Congress sessions and committee sessions there is the duties of the Peerage to the Imperial Court. For a permanent member of the Peerage such as yourself, there is a permanent open invitation to Her Majesty's Court. It is generally held at the summons of Her Majesty, rather than being on any set schedule. Your attendance here is not required, unless of course Her Majesty requests it."

"And then there is the host of social events that I think the other Amazonia peers will be far better to accquaint you with. Although I will warn you of one thing, Herr Conrad. In order to receive their tax break, permanent members of the Peerage must donate fifteen percent of their yearly income to various humanitarian, social, and environmental beneficient programs of their choice. To not do this results in House Alderman ordering the Peer to be audited by a specially selected banking group. And that is not a pleasant or enjoyable process historically."

"Citizenship is a far easier matter, at least. Any person elevated to the Peerage, regardless of birth, is automatically granted full citizenship in the Star Empire once they swear personal fealty to the Crown either in a private ceremony or during a Court reception."

"As for people to avoid-" Bergen begins.

"Anyone that holds to the title of Centrist," Togashi interrupts abruptly. "Especially certain Grossgeneralfeldmarschalls whose names most likely do not need to be mentioned."

"Yes, that would be wise," Bergen says eying Togashi. "The Centrist will not be pleased with this development at all, Herr Conrad. The same can be sad for most of the Augustgrad Union Peers and the New Men Coalition. There will also most likely be more conservative members in the Greater Raumreich and United Lords party that will also find your ascendancy to the Peerage as a less than welcome event."

"Rest assured," Togashi says as soup arrives in the hands of Edgar and another formally dressed waiter, "Her Majesty and Lady Rolt will do everything in their power to ease your transition into the Star Empire, Herr Conrad. But there are always limits to what can be done and still keep the balance of affairs in the Star Empire in effect."

"Sage advice."

"I try," Togashi says calmly as he picks up a spoon deftly, his other hand feeling around the edge of the bowl.

"There is the matter of the name, My Lord," Turner says politely toward Bergen.

"Ah, yes...your name, Herr Conrad," Bergen looks awkward for a moment. "In the Star Empire names, titles, and the history attached to them mean a great deal. The Cavegn name is a very old and very honored one. There has always been an Earl Cavegn since the founding of the Second Empire by Penrod the Great. The Lords and even House Alderman will not look fondly on losing that name. Typically when such a problem has been raised by a Valinor heir, the lesser name has merely been changed legally by the courts. A relatively painless and simple process, I assure you Herr Conrad. And you would be wise upon arriving in Valinon to seek to do this. I am sure Herr Turner can help you expedite this process."

Turner nods slowly.

"Anything else, Herr Conrad?"

**********

Heathcliff's eyes narrow for just a section at the man's action. A feeling in his gut tells him something is...not right. He casaully readjusts his shoulder bag's strap.

"There was no problems arranging for the shuttle passage off the Star, or at disembarkation. What seems to be the trouble here? I am half-sick of delays as it is now. The Star's crew and captain were less than co-operative for the past week, and I have urgent business to attend to in Acler."

Erwin takes a sip of his soup, "I can't think of anything at the moment. So, Herr Togashi, if I may ask, what exactly is Her Majesty's Special Liason Service? I've never heard of it before. Oh! I'm sorry if I used the wrong form of address, I'm not familiar with it either."

***

"It's just a computer foul up Sir. My supervisor is on his way here right now to take care of it."

A rather nondescript passenger entered into the back of the line Heathcliff was in. He was the type of person with a forgettable face, which came in handy for blending into crowds. He stood there feigning boredom, watching Heathcliff out of the corner of his eye.

A bit after that man was in position, three Customs officials walked up. Two wore standard security uniforms, consisting of an armored chestplate and helmet designed to protect against light pulser fire. Each guard had a holstered stunner. The third man wore a standard uniform of middle rank.

"Sir, I apologize, but there's been a problem with your identification. If you could come with us please, we'll sort it out."

Bergen's eyes suddenly blink rapidly for a second, and Turner seems to cough a little on his soup. But the brief air of tension seems to pass when Togashi gives a wane smile.

"Herr is appropriate enough, Herr Conrad. My particular branch of the services to Her Majesty do not fret over titles as much as the rest of the Star Empire."

"As for the nature of the Liaison Service, we are the direct agents of Her Majesty. It is our duty to make sure the Star Empire--both internally and externally--runs as smoothly as possible. We also carry out certain personal courier services and messages that Her Majesty feels cannot be trusted to more common channels. Which is why I am in Cardona."

**********

Alarm bells ring in Heathcliffs head as he glares indignantly at the Customs agent.

"There were no problems with my identification when I boarded the Star. There were no problems with my identification when I left the Star. And the damnable Valinor," Heathcliff momentarily wanted a reward for acting, then realized the current power-holders of his homeland really were damnable, "didn't even give me problems when I requested a visa so I could conduct my business there. If I can please the Star Empire, gentlemen, I at least demand to know exactly what this so-called 'problem' is. Unless I am merely being harrassed on behalf of the owner of the Star because I chose to find more compotent liners."

Heathcliff grasps his bag once again, thumbing moving to the concealed activation stud that waits there. He still hopes fervently this is just another example of the Verniians overwhelming stupidty, and their love to perpertuate inefficient bureaucracies. But here of all places the worse is the best thing to expect. And certainly the one that will result in the most favorable outcome for himself.

"Well, I'm certain some shipping companies wouldn't mind leasing space on Robotstani freighters, it would save them the cost of owning and operating their own. How much business does your nation do in Sol? Its something of a treasure trove to Verniian corporations, full of consumers with demands for products."

"Ever since a certain...incident...our trade missions to sol have steadily decreased. The threat of being accosted by Aumanii vessels is often considered too great, but we have been considering a more dedicated and long-term presence around Earth and Mars. Also, Robotstani freighters are very large. If you are familiar with the Jimi Hendrix and the Marvin Gaye, these two ships can transport monstrous amounts of goods in a single trip, and often make trips to Earth."

OOC: I'll reply to the Erwin Conrad subplot and LRR negotiations in my next post.

"A visual screening flagged you as a person of interest for law enforcement authorities. You're not being charged with anything at the moment and this is not an arrest, but you will need to come with us Sir."

The civilian travellers who had been previously crowded around Heathcliff start to drift away, sensing possible trouble. The hands of the two security guards slowly started drifting toward their holstered stunners.

Heathcliff's eyes narrow, glaring with a supreme hatred for the custom officials edging toward him.

"Horrible liars," he mutter audibly, then depresses the concealed stud in his bag's strap. He shrugs it off his shoulder as the deep, boiling cloud of gas erupts from the concealed smoke charges hidden in his carry-on. He slides to the floor, hand reaching for the long, slender blade that is concealed in a slender sheath carefully worked into his pant's seam.

He crawls across the floor, seeking escape while the black cloud expands. He closes his eyes, picturing the nearest exit and moves to make his course.

The crowd broke and ran screaming in chaos. Purple flashes of light from the stunners zapped through the smoke cloud as the two guards shot blindly, and five travellers fell to the floor unconscious.

Agent Kaufman, Imperial Security, had been the man in the business suit in line behind Heathcliff. The smoke cloud had taken him by surprise, he mentally chastised himself for not expecting such a trick. A mental command switched his optical implants over to thermal.

A quick scan showed the heat image of a person crawling along the floor. He took three steps toward the figure, smoothly pulling out his concealed stunner, and then squeezed off a shot.

Heathcliff curses as the stunner beam jolts through his system. He feels the feeling simply end in the area just above his left hip. Apparently the Verniian security services have managed to learn a few things since the Occupation.

The smoke still billows around him, but Heathcliff realizes that the as yet unseen Verniian agent obviously has either an optical implant system or a set of thermal-specs, either way his options are now drastically limited. But the smoke may yet save him.

Heathcliif jolts suddenly, acting as if the stunner bolt hit him far harder than it had, and then falls back down into a relaxed posture. He carefully tucks the long blade under his torso and waits for his prey, eyes half-closed and roving into the dark cloud, ears straining to here any approaching footsteps.

**********

To: Herr Earnest T. Baldwin, Head of Public Relations and Administrative Negotiation for the Tiber Corporation
From: Duke Adrian Sterling, First Minister for Her Majesty's Foreign Affairs
Subject: Reopening of Morning Star Relations
Encryption: DS Priority-Three Alpha-Alpha-Rho

An understandable, and certainly necessary, course of action. The current trend of international affairs seems to be making Morning Star into a neutral territory, if such can be said. However, having a well-organized group within Liberated New Hope's government that is actually interested in maintaining actual neutrality is infinitely preferrable to the feigned neutrality the Setties Administration currently pursues.

And now I will outline the details so that we may begin formal negotiations. The conference will be held at the Viscount Orsini's (Bashar of the Dominion of Yalta's) estate near the town of Sag Harbor. The conference will start in two days on 3.27.1215 AL (Imperial Alderman Calendar). Your delegation may arrive through in the system in a ship of their choosing. However, once their ship arrives it should hail Yalta Central Aerospace Traffic Control aboard the HMSS Brimstone using the following secure channels provided and send the following message: "Brimstone traveler has arrived." The controllers aboard Brimstone will forward additional details to your diplomatic craft and see to it you are seen to Sag Harbor as discreetly and quickly as possible.

I will await your delegation's rendezvous with earnest interest.

Files Attached, Do You Wish to Access (Warning, Voice Security Identification and Certification Required)

OCC: Hey Valinon...I hope you don't mind if I move the meeting foreward a little to the tour of the cruiser...also, do you think you could do something for me about Auman? Like mabye get him to stop attacking me?

IC:

Kayyam watches as the shuttle nears the Amandrai. Outside of the ship itself, the engineer robots check over every centimeter of hull, partly out of concern for the well-being of the ship and partly because of their boredom. The Amandrai is probably the closest thing to a warship that the RGF has (taking into account the very recent destruction of the only two superheavy cruisers), being more heavily armed than most other comparable Robotic vessels. But it still isn't quite a warship. True, it has highest-quality shielding and point defense systems, reasonable-capacity missile bays, and good secondary armement, if one takes into account the volume of the ship and how much of it is used for weapons systems, its purpose is brought into the clear.

But that's not to say it might not interest Valinor ship designers. After all, spherical vessels are not terribly common.

(OOC: Because the computer I'm on is a big rolling peice of shnite, I currently lack the ability to log in as TiberCorp so I'll be responding under the screen name Liberated New Hope)

BEGIN TRANSMISSION

To: Duke Adrian Sterling, First Minister for Her Majesty's Foreign Affairs
From: Earnest T. Baldwin, Head of Public Relations and Administrative Negotiation
Subject: Reopening of Morning Star Relations
Encryption: PL X-32/marla

Message recieved. Thank you. Enclosed are specifications for the ship that will be approaching (as to help avoid any possibilities of confusion).

Correction: The representative from Cha Cha Cola Industries, Holden T. Stillwell, has fallen ill and shall by his southern counterpart; Elias Fox.

ATTACHMENT: TCC Signus specs

END TRANSMISSION

**********

True Hope, Hamunaptra, Administrative Palace

Col. Felix T. Doltzworth (OOC: I suggest you read either “A Sheep Among Wolves,” started by Vernii, or “Testing the Blade,” started by Taka to find information on this fellow) trots down the grand halls, noticing the fantastic absence of servants scurrying about the palace and taking a moment to scratch his seemingly eight o’clock shadow. In their stead are army and navy personnel (clad in either desert camouflage or black uniforms with red trim), some handing paper work and still others scrubbing floors. After making a few turns he finds himself in front of two very large doors guarded by two very large men in fatigues. The one to the left quickly opens a door for the Colonel who quickly sees the meeting he was bound to attend had already begun. Within the room are a host of officers of the newly unified Morning Star military and government officials of varying degrees of importance.

Admiral Setties, wearing his officer’s uniform instead of official garbs meant for a Prime Guardian, sits at the head of the table, looks over his glasses at Felix who has proceeded to bolt for his seat at the table.

“Good of you to join us, Colonel Doltzworth,” Setties says in a monotone voice across the room.

“My apologies, sir.” Felix declares in a raspy voice as he takes his seat.

“Sandra, if you could pass him a packet. Colonel; we’re at page five if you please.”

Felix opens the booklet to the specified page and his eyes widen while his breathing haults. Nearly silently a single word can be seen escaping his lips; “Samantha…”

A short but strikingly handsome young man in a black uniform similar to Felix’s stands in the middle of the table and continues his seminar. “As you can see, the delegation includes Elias Fox; Chairman of Cha Cha Cola’s southern division, Samantha of the Setting Star; TiberCorp shareholder and neice to Contantine IV, several secretaries, known corporate attorneys, and so on.”

“Excuse me…” a balding, but still young, man in a grey suit interrupts from across the table “Cha Cha Cola? I didn’t think they were directly tied to TiberCorp or any of its subsidiaries.”

“While the two companies share no official ties they still have certain political alliances. Now, if we may continue.” the man in black replies.

“Actually, that’s enough for now, Major.” Setties suddenly interjects. As he stands, so does everyone else sitting at the table. “Ladies, Gentleman; you may leave and meet back here at 1300. Dismissed.”

The group quickly filters out of the room but Felix remains, approaching Setties. “Sir… may I ask what this is all about?”
“Well, Colonel; you’re just the man I…” Setties suddenly becomes distracted. “Dear lord, Colonel. You smell of liquor! And when’s the last time you shaved?”

“It’s been a rough few months… sir…” Felix says while stressfully rubbing his forehead.

“ I can see that…” Setties picks up the packet of paper from the conference table and begins to leaf through it. “You lost your position as liason for the Setting Star during the split… and your wife left you only a few months after that. You know Colonel, I’ve been reading up on you; and it seems, like many of us, you’ve had some connections with TiberCorp… and you’ve had contact with some people in very high places.”

“Yes… sir…” Felix is confused. He is an officer of the Liberation, but these are his friends they are talking about.

“Well I have a task for you, Colonel.” Setties flips to page five and shows Felix the photo upon it. “We suspect these men and women are headed to a secret meeting with Valinon officials. I want you to track them, confirm our suspicions, and if given the opportunity find a way to monitor this conference. What I need from you is a yes or a no.”

Without missing a beat Felix inquires to confirm his thoughts. “And Samantha is there?”

“Yes… along with several other delegates.”

Trying not to seem too eager, Felix strokes his chin and cheak for a moment but then agrees. “I’ll do it. Support?”

“You’ll be issued one Reaper Class Carrier with a compliment of five SP1 fighters, two SP2 Boarding and Landing Craft, and no bombers. Skeleton crew, no marines; but you will have full access to pick any one special operations team from the MSIA (OOC: Morning Star Intelligence Agency. I’ll put up a thread with all this schnite sometime soon) to make use of. We already have one agent on board, that's how we were able to obtane the photos. She'll be sending you more information as you go along and she'll help you get whatever information she can. She will remain anonymous for the time being, though. You leave in the morning and you’ll receive more information about your targets and destinations upon takeoff.”

“Thank you, sir.” Felix says, fully composed and looking sober as ever.

Setties quickly dismisses the officer who then marches off to his car which whisks him away to his home where on the dresser sits one framed photograph torn from the pages of a magazine. At it’s base lays a perfumed shard of silk. The frame is engraved with a single name. “Samantha.”

The next day... (tic toc tic toc tic toc tic toc)

TCC Signis, Privately owned luxury transport

Just outside of Yalta's system a sudden explosion in the form of a rainbow of lights occurs, quickly dispursing and replacing itself with the form of a sleek platinum craft baring no marks. The large (but not massive by any means) craft makes it's way toward it's destination in system.

"Yalta Control, this is the TCC Signus. Brimstone traveler has arrived, I repeat Brimstone traveler has arrived."

"Ever since a certain...incident...our trade missions to sol have steadily decreased. The threat of being accosted by Aumanii vessels is often considered too great, but we have been considering a more dedicated and long-term presence around Earth and Mars. Also, Robotstani freighters are very large. If you are familiar with the Jimi Hendrix and the Marvin Gaye, these two ships can transport monstrous amounts of goods in a single trip, and often make trips to Earth."

"Ah. Well, Verniian merchants are...cheap. I suppose that'd be the best way to describe them. No weapons, light shielding, just crew compartments and engines attached to what could best be described as a flying warehouse. I'm certain some company might lease space on them, particularly for perishable cargos."

***

Skye Complex, Isle of Clouds, Proxima Centauri

Lord Chelshire had served as the Imperium's ambassador to the Liga Der Raumreich for the past fifteen years, and the proposal he was about to submit was certainly one of the more unusual ones.

Emperor Alexis had been rather furious at the news of Auman's latest attack on LRR, especially since it had supposed to be a peace agreement. Not furious enough to commit himself to military action, but still angry enough to actually do something.

"Acting as representative on behalf of the Imperial government, I hereby submit a proposal: The recent unprovoked military actions by Auman against the nation of LRR are an outrage. Judging by past Aumanii actions, such as the nuclear bombardment of LRR holdings in Sol, they cannot be trusted to conduct civilized and honorable warfare. The Imperium calls for forces to be sent to the area of conflict to protect both sides from needless atrocities, and to ensure that the war is fought in a civilized manner."

***

Erwin nods in understanding. "Ah, very interesting. I hope you enjoy your stay in Cardona, it's a nice city." He smiled, but couldn't help but notice the brief moment of tension between Bergen and Turner.

"So, Lord Bergen, what about yourself? I hope that our government isn't making things too stressful for you."

***

Agent Kaufman chuckled a bit to himself. "Too easy." He reached into his jacket to pull out a pair of handcuffs as the two guards approached the unconscious Heathcliff.

The Ticonderogan delegate stood and began to speak,

"With all respect to our esteemed allies the Vernii I do not see how this august body can protect the rights of a bunch of Robots against war crimes when certain nations in the Raumreich used much worst methods to subjugate innocent nations and nary a word is said about it!" The anger and pure loathing was clear in his voice. It was a jab not really directed at the Vernii while they didn’t do much to stop the last war which the Ticonderogan spoke of they did a lot to put the struggling nation back onto its feet. There were many nations in the Raumreich that have simply ceased to be, his own came awfully close to that fate only a few years before.

"We will of course be compelled to send whatever squadrons should be require if the Liga determines peacekeepers are necessary.

"Ah. Well, Verniian merchants are...cheap. I suppose that'd be the best way to describe them. No weapons, light shielding, just crew compartments and engines attached to what could best be described as a flying warehouse. I'm certain some company might lease space on them, particularly for perishable cargos."

"That's good. I suppose most of our ships are designed to carry more bulk cargoes, but I'm sure that freighter captains will be quite ready to initiate contracts with Verniian businessmen. Eh...also...it has come to my attention that my ship might need a temporary port. Would it be possible to stay here for awhile? We could never hope to defend ourselves conventionally, so RGF doctrine calls for the freighters and escaped ships to act as something of a guerilla fleet."

"Ah, yes, it's definitely possible. Space is quite readily available here in Gregor of course." Teschen chuckled a bit at his own bad joke. "A long-term docking permit can be issued, we have Wickian Commonwealth units still in system after their last unfortunate war against the Hegemony."

Sir Gordon W. Prange, of the Order of Emperor Penrod the Great, eyes the Ortagan and Wickian representatives cooly for a moment before his eyes move to rest on Rakti nar Kiranka, the Vaku representative currently serving as the Liga's Chancellor. Nar Kiranka gazes at Prange with slitted eyes. Prange had already spoken to the Chancellor about this possible appeal to the council earlier, and had "urged" the Vaku ambassador to allow the measure to pass through unhindered.

"Her Majesty and Her Majesty's Government fully concur with the sentiments of Emperor Alexis of the Verniian Imperium. On three seperate occassions, two now involving LRR, the Aumanii realm has made unprovoked, massive military strikes upon neutral nations. It is high time that some measure was taken by at least part of the international community to curb Aumanii excesses. Although the actions of the United Star Empire may be limited in this area by the bounds imposed upon us by the MIDAS Charter, we will move to support whatever action the Liga condones to the fullest extent we can."

With that, Prange turns to the Ticonderogan representative, "I would also urge that we set aside past transgressions for the moment. Yes, there have been past conflicts where highly questionable and offensive matters were left unaddressed by the body of the Liga. However, I would remind the council that several times these matters were brought before the Liga and were dismissed after the exercise of the powers of the Liga's veto power members. As for the others, many times the Liga heard no appeal from either side in the conflict, and as the Proxima Centauri Accords specifically state the Liga cannot address matters not brought before it for review."

Prange returns to his seat, eying the Ortagan representative cooly. As the only other nation besides the Star Empire to hold veto power in the Liga, the Ortagan Hegemony has long been perhaps the greatest hinderance to Valinon's own efforts to expand t he Liga's powers and intervention.

**********

Bergen offers a slight smile as the main course arrives. Elegantly arranged chicken florentine, with its cheese and spinach sauce, is set before the diners. Bergen carefully unfolds his napkin and draps it across his lap as he replies.

"Nothing out of the ordinary, Herr Conrad. As usual there are tensions over control of the terminus in Gregor, but I have long since become accustomed to dealing with that matter. And thankfully both the Star Empire and the Imperium seem to at last realize this is a simple deadlock and avoid addressing the issue. Other than that I must say my posting to Gregor has been rather uneventful. Certainly more easy than may last posting to Verniian space. I had the misfortune to serve as one of the Ministry for Colonial Affairs officials in trying to integrate Acler into the Star Empire when it was still Crown territory. The remnant Seperatist in the system caused us no end of trouble. Nothing in the scope of Gregor perhaps, but problems enough."

"And I later also served the pleasure," his voice drips with sarcasm, "of being one of the observers sent to oversee the Acler plebiscite. Let us just say that elections of that nature, Herr Conrad, are always a nightmare. It is impossible to please either side, as no doubt our own nation has learned from the continual protests by some of the Acleran officials that were elected during the Star Empire's tenure there to serve in the Dominions. After the voting ended and the Star Empire began to withdraw from Acler, I saw fit to take a sabbatical from the Service. Duke Sterling later contacted me about the opening of the ambassadorial post to Gregor, and I felt I had spent enough time away from the often mired swamp that is affairs in the Raumreich. Thankfully the general climate is infinitely more peaceful and tranquil than the last time I served Her Majesty's abroad."

**********

"Brimstone Traveler, this is Brimstone System Aerospace Control. You are cleared for in-system vector 334-Alpha. We are uploading additional coordinates for your immediate use. Please set a course for optimal atmospheric re-entry. The provided coordinates detail a private aerospace pad on the Great Northern Isle. An AI controller will see you the rest of the way," the bland voice stops and a data stream from the Kriegsmarine's center of operations in Yalta begins.

**********

Duke Adrian Sterling looks skyward, glinting into the Yaltan sun that is rapidly fading from afternoon to evening. Standing with him are Viscount Orsini, Her Majesty's Bashar of the Dominion of Yalta, and First Star Lord Grossadmiral the Lady Katherine Adonis. The Grossadmiral, in the starched white uniform trimmed with gold and silver piping and epaulets befitting her rank, has a glazed and distant look. Sterling instantly files the look away as the head of the Kriegsmarine receiving a Nu-space connection to her implant. Sterling looks in fascination, still somewhat unsure about his own impending operation a few weeks away.

Katherine Adonis looks back to him suddenly, "The Tiber Corporation delegation has arrived. Brimstone has cleared them and sent the coordinates. Estimated time of arrival is ten minutes."

Sterling nods, "Good. This shouldn't be too complex, Grossadmiral. With all luck we should be back in Alpha Centauri in a matter of days."

"Socially I would bemoan that, Duke Sterling. However, Sanctuary is quite busy these days with the Cluster and the Hegemony. I will be most glad to return to the Twin Suns in the shortest order possible."

Sterling nods, the daughter of the famous--and infamous in some circles--Reynard Adonis is a woman who lives for her work. In the years since she ascended to the head of the Admiralty following Quentin Forrest's resignation, Katherine Adonis has become the Kriegsmarine And her zealous pursuit to keep the Star Empire's navy at the pinnacle of the Raumreich naval pyramid shows.

"And I would hate to delay you any longer than necessary, Grossadmiral."

**********

Heathcliff counts the sounds echoing through the floor, keeping his ear pressed hard against the marble. There's at least three, maybe four would-be heroes. Which means the two customs agents had more help than he anticipated, most likely Imperial Security, possibly even some operative from the ESS or worse.....a Myrmidon. No, if it was a Myrmidon pursuing him he would have been plucked off the streets before even clearing customs and the Proles would never be the wiser.

Heathcliff clenches and unclenches his hand under his torso, taking some small measure of security in the blade in his grip. The echoes are slowing now, and this is as good a time as any. The smoke is starting to dissipate.

"Last chance..." he mutters to himself.

Suddenly he heaves himself upward, ignoring the pinpricks of thousands of needles down his side. He rapidly hurls a small knife, drawn from inside a pocket in his tunic, toward the footsteps approaching from behind. Then he swirls around, his long knife--patterned off the bayonets of Old Earth with a small handle added--starts above his head and rapidly descends, moving toward the side of one of the customs agents who had initially stopped him.

"Ah, yes, it's definitely possible. Space is quite readily available here in Gregor of course." Teschen chuckled a bit at his own bad joke. "A long-term docking permit can be issued, we have Wickian Commonwealth units still in system after their last unfortunate war against the Hegemony."

"I see. Well, I must thank you for all you've done for my humble state. Although it looks like much of what we have talked about will come to nothing, due to the present state of affairs in the robotic cluster, you have still helped immeasurably in the furtherment of our economic state."

The thrown knife jabbed into the armor of one unlucky guard, and stabbing into his chest. He went down, not dead or seriously wounded, but clutching the imbedded knife in pain. The second guard saw Heathcliff's attack coming, but barely so. He'd just started trying to dodge when the long dagger sliced into his side, penetrating through the tough fabric of his uniform and slicing into soft flesh. He'd probably require a new kidney.

He's good, but not good enough. Kaufman thought as he leveled his stunner for another blast. His other hand unsnapped his pulser from the holster concealed under his jacket, just in case. Enhanced eyes and a calm hand guided the stunner to point at his target's torso and fired two more shots.

Heathcliff eyes the shocked customs agent with a cool smile as he withdraws his blade from his side. He spins around rapidly, making to face his last opponent and escape into the ever-present bustle of Kiel.

"Too easy," he mummers to himself as he looks for the nearest exit through the rapidly dispersing cloud, "damn Proles still haven't learned any-"

Heathcliff never completes his sentence. A strange, chilled fire sensation suddenly drives into his gut and torso. He crumples to his knees, gasping in a horrendous matter as his lung feel as if all oxygen has been driven for them. His eyes rove madly, mind trying deseperately to keep its tight grip on his blade. As the feeling in his back and legs give way and he sinks toward the floor, Heathcliff sees his final captor approach, infinitely more successful than his two fallen compatriots. And then his vision fades as he gives way to a stunner-induced blackout.

In but a few moments the TiberCorp delegation lands on the planets surface and comes out of the ship's yacht (yet another brilliant example of TiberCorp's trademark sleek and silver design) sitting upon the landing pad. First comes a host of TiberCorp gaurds, clad in crimson uniforms with yellow and black trim; quite the inverse of Liberated New Hope uniforms as they were meant. After them comes Samantha; her white furs and equally white, silken hair flowing, then Elias Fox; a tall dark man with a gotee wearing a sharp black suit, and finally Samul Hudan; the exiled Prime Guardian of the Morning Star System. Soon after them a line of corporate lawyers and secretaries line up in military fashion along side the ship.

Meanwhile, some distance outside of the Yalta System...

A crude looking, grey craft pops out of starburst and is quickly enveloped in the blackness of space around it. Inside, Felix sits in his tiny, cramped captain quarters within the small carrier. He grasps the comm. next to him and contacts the bridge.

"Their signature is in that system, correct?" Felix inquires.

"Yessr."

"And you're sure we're currently out of scanning range?"

"Yessr."

"Good. Blanket, all stealth up. Move within specified range. Out." He quickly hangs up the comm. and leaves his room and marches down the coridors to the quarters of Special Agent Jeremiah Maxwell, Felix's second in command for this misson and operations leader of the MSIA team. He knocks.

"Who goes?" Maxwell ask.

"Colonel Doltzworth."

"Come in."

The Colonel enters the small room to see Maxwell laying on his cot reading Better Homes Magazine. The agent quickly puts down the text and looks at Felix, who comments "I see your keeping busy, Agent Maxwell."

Maxwell looks sarcastically "I see the last man in this room had a creepy obsession with window treatments. What's your business?"

"That last Starburst put us just outside of the Yalta System." Felix reports. "We'll be waiting here in case our agent needs extraction. Thankfully this thing is going down planetside. You've been breifed on the ifs, whens, and hows?"

"Yes, and if the agent isn't caught?"

"We follow the the Signus back to the Morning Star." Felix observes Maxwell running his hands through his hair in frustration. "What? You expected this to be eventful?"

The two have a quick laugh and Maxwell says "Ten years on with the LIA and and two with the MSIA and my first operation off planet is 'just in case.'"

"Yea, well as soon as we can get them you'll have some readouts of the planet's surface; specifically wherever the negotiations are happening. Good evening, Agent."

"Good evening, Colonel."

Both Vernii and Valinon are lavishly rewarded for their support of Robotic interests, although lavish by Robotic standards is not much these days, especially with the capital system in Aumanii hands for the time being. Great vats of mineral resources, platinum, and cash all find their way to Gregor and Proxima Centuari, as well as lengthy letters thanking the respective governments for both hosting the representatives sent there, tolerating their ineptitude (a common Robotic trait, as a gigantic capacity for science and learning coupled with massive compassionator/ethicon processors leave little room for personal wit and competitiveness), and harboring them for the time being.

If things keep up, there might even be a human revolt on hand. The style of the Robotic government is not terribly popular, considering that they spend, or spent, most of their time skanking across continents.

Skye Complex, Isle of Clouds, Proxima Centauri

Lord Chelshire had served as the Imperium's ambassador to the Liga Der Raumreich for the past fifteen years, and the proposal he was about to submit was certainly one of the more unusual ones.

Emperor Alexis had been rather furious at the news of Auman's latest attack on LRR, especially since it had supposed to be a peace agreement. Not furious enough to commit himself to military action, but still angry enough to actually do something.

"Acting as representative on behalf of the Imperial government, I hereby submit a proposal: The recent unprovoked military actions by Auman against the nation of LRR are an outrage. Judging by past Aumanii actions, such as the nuclear bombardment of LRR holdings in Sol, they cannot be trusted to conduct civilized and honorable warfare. The Imperium calls for forces to be sent to the area of conflict to protect both sides from needless atrocities, and to ensure that the war is fought in a civilized manner."

Rakti nar Kiranka maintains his quiet composure during the brief speeches of both Prange and Lord Chelshire. The current Chancellor of the Liga der Raumreich allows his gaze to drift to the seats held by Valinon and New Ortaga, the two veto power nations of Liga's.

"At this time the the seat of the Chancellor of the Liga der Raumreich hereby recognizes the issue submitted by the Honorable Representative of the Imperium of Vernii and co-sponsored by the Honorable Representative of the United Star Empire of Valinon. The issue presented before the chamber of the Liga is that of the actions by both parties of the LRR and Aumanii conflict currently raging in the Nathanielstan system. It is the intention of the Imperium and the United Star Empire to have the Liga send a due and appropriate group of observers, contributed by willing nations of the council, to ensure the proper sense of the rules of war and respect of both parties rights are followed. At this time the seat of the Chancellor will submit this issue to a general vote before the Liga council."

He looks to the pair of guards at the doors to the council chamber's--two from each of the signatory nations.

"At this time the council will move into voting procedure. I asked that the doors be barred and the address of all other matters cease until we have completed our voting procedure. Are there any motions from the floor at this time?"

The Honorable Citizen Theodore Varquez finally distracts himself from looking at the Wickian delegate with a look of utmost contempt and hatred. He turns to favor the Vaku Chancellor with an equally cold look. The Hegemony has long since made its attitude about the Vaku and Wickian representatives in the Liga known, and the only reason the Hegemony continues to keep its permanent mission to the Liga is because of the veto power they hold courtesy of the now dead Gustav II.

That and the fact the Valinor still see it as their perrogative to try and force legislation banning the use of forced labor and other common practices favored by the Solar Navy.

Varquez looks away from the current Chancellor, not entirely feigning total disinterest in the matter.

"The Hegemony will neither hinder nor condone any efforts made by the Liga to establish an observation force in the Nathanielstan system of the LRR at this time. However, we do not deem it necessary to send active elements of the Solar Forces to support this endeavor either. If the rest of the council wishes to play the role of interstellar guardsmen, it is their perrogative do to so at their own expense and initiative."

OCC: Just FYI, the RGF in the region known as the Robotic Cluster (although it may soon be abandoned to the rule of its human inhabitants, who have hinted dissatisfaction with the current government system and would rather return to simpler times), has pretty much surrendered. The only ships capable of really fighting the Aumaniis in such a big engagement have been worn down at long last, and the destroyer/escorts have been very badly mauled. Freighters cart off refugees and organize the relocation of more portable industry and avoid combat with the Aumanii fleet, which would be futile at best.

So there really isn't much of a conflict going on, although the nature of the Aumanii occupation has yet to be seen.

Conrad smiled a bit at the mention of the Acler plebiscite, "My my, this looks delicious. Well, it's good to hear that we're giving you less trouble then Acler did. You know, at first I was sort of horrified at the responsibilities my new position will entail, but I think I'm beginning to look forward to them. At the very least I know I can quit my job as a cubicle drone. It's still hard to wrap my mind around all of this though, but I'm sure I'll get used to it."

***

Teschen smiled, "While I would have to have what I'm about to offer approved by the Emperor, I believe that it will, and so it's safe to go ahead. Any RGF starship that finds its way to Gregor will be offered a safe port while it makes repairs and "refits" itself if needed, if you know what I mean." His grandfatherly face took on a bit of a mischievous look.

***

Major Lia Vallis was part of Imperial Security's War Crimes Investigation Division, the unit tasked with tracking down and bringing to justice those who committed atrocities against Triple Alliance citizenry and personnel during the War of the Lion. She'd lost an older brother to the Occupation, he'd disappeared into the prison at Kiel and had never been heard from again. And now they had a high ranking ex-Nightwatch officer in their hands. In her hands. He'd get a trial of course, a fair one, but no one doubted what the outcome would be, and she'd make sure her prisoner knew it, and knew what his other options were if he didn't cooperate.

She walked briskly down the corridors of Imperial Security Headquarters until she came to the high security detention and interrogation section. She handed her ID to one of the guards. "Major Vallis, here to oversee the interrogation of Prisoner 1056."

The guard led to her a durasteel door, swiped his ID through the electronic lock, then unlatched it. She walked through. Another guard stood in the corner, silent and watchful, with a heavy stunner in his hands and a holstered automatic pulser. A metal table sat in the center of the room, with two chairs at it. She sat down at one and looked over at the prisoner handcuffed to the other. Still unconscious. Annoyed, she pulled off her white glove and slapped him across the face. "Wake up!"