NationStates Jolt Archive

The Galactic Council of Thirteen

The chamber was a massive and impressive sight, on each side were tall podiums that rose high into the air, statues of gargoyles leered down to the holographic projection screen below, where standing around it long black leather robes stood the Thirteen… each one had total power of Biotanica’s Galactic Navy and the ground forces of the Imperial Regiment…

The Chamber was dark, as were all of Biotanica’s rooms, each one was poorly lit, with a feint green hue to the little lighting that was there… the Thirteen were a dark group of people, chosen from birth to lead the country, to ensure that the Bio Emperor’s words are heeded and given to the peoples in The Dominion of Biotanica…

In a low dry voice, one of the Thirteen spoke, each of the Thirteen were faceless, unknown beings, each one unknown to the other, only by their decisions are they known…

“Our time is here, we should extend a hand of friendship to the Galaxy, ensure our place as respected members of the galactic community…”

“I disagree, I recommend that we remain isolationist and prepare for the eventual attack that will happen to us, once our systems are discovered…”

“I disagree, I say were prepare for War immediately, the faster we expand and conquer the faster our Fleets and Legions can crush world after world, spreading the voice of the Bio Emperor to the Galaxy…”

The thirteen tossed arguments around the room, each one stating a valid point only to be given a counter point by another, this lasted for some time, until finally a voice, that sounded like someone speaking with a mouth full of bile and puss began to emanate across the room….

“The Dominion of Biotanica should extend its hand of friendship, while at the same time preparing for War…we cannot afford to forget that the galaxy is a big place, and despite our hand of friendship, some will choose to strike… It is therefore we will make an offer of Diplomatic exchange…… while at the same time our Fabri Worlds will continue to produce vessels and weaponry at a higher rate…” the sick voice finished… its breath trailing off as the sentence closed…

The Council of the Thirteen were bowed low before the voice, each one stood looking at the floor….

“As you wish… My Divine Emperor….” One of the Thirteen spoke, while the rest spoke out quickly…

“May the Divine Emperor look upon us with Mercy…”


|-- Open Communication --|

To those that can hear us, We are the Dominion of Biotanica, We call to you in honour of the Glorious and Divine, Bio Emperor, we extend a hand of friendship and ask that those who hear our call will visit us at this location, Bioctavia our Home world… Co-ordinates Follow XXX-XXX-XXX…

May the Divine Emperor Look upon you with Mercy

The Council of Thirteen

DATUM RECEIVED @ • [LONG NUMBER STRIPPING ENGAGED]
DATE IY•

Concise form, Cultural Survey Drone • reporting contact with unclassified alien life forms at coordinates •.

[Transmission Attached]

A young man with a sharp suit that bore a lapel pin styled after a wreath of evergreen leaves read the words, and tossed the data wafer he’d read it from down onto his desk. There were few operatives there at this time of the night in the CS buildings, and he found it disconcerting. The buildings clung precipitously to one of the rocky cliffs on the outskirts of Tephet-Sheta, built there for the nature-defying art of it, rather than necessity. It wasn’t a matter of any serious import, but the appearances of new cultures were always welcomed by the genetically-tweaked inhabitants of the Necrontyr empire.

He consulted another slate, and discovered that there weren’t any dedicated FTL capable diplomatic craft available that weren’t either being tuned or out on missions. A touch of another button, and he said to a microphone pickup that he would handle the affair himself, then switched to communication with a distinctly non-governmental organisation in order to hitch a lift.

---

It took, in all, about an hour to get everything sorted and transfer to the Élmbar, the eight kilometre capital ship and headquarters of the Venturers, an informal organisation dedicated to general missions of mercy throughout the universe, which was currently waiting about a parsec out of a system that contacts in the nation of Der-Angst had informed them of.

And from there, it was another short wait to requisition a sub-light vehicle, a fairly generic looking flying saucer and cadge a lift aboard a frigate to a point just under a hundredth of a parsec – close to two thousand astronomical units – from the origin of the new transmission, where the saucer, a small vehicle indeed, was shot off with an intrinsic velocity, courtesy of the frigate, scraping the skin of lightspeed’s teeth.

The frigate sped out across the vast gulfs of space again, and he sat back to enjoy the journey. It would take over ten days in real time, but to him, only the best part of a day. Enough time to get through a good book – or whatever radio skimmings the saucer could pick up from near to the destination planet, before sending any message of his intent.

The Deceleration of the saucer wasn’t as high as it could be – it always helped in these kind of things to leave people thinking your getaway would be slower than it really would if things went tits up.

As such, the ship’s occupant had time to put the book he’d been reading, a comedic tale of a total reprobate, one the Élmbar, had recommended, away and begin composing his greeting to the system below him. Oddly enough, his scanners had revealed no other messages had been sent in the many days he’d travelled to that world.

To: The Council of Thirteen, Biotanica
From: Erberad Shilling Esq. Vent. Envoy of the Necrontyr Empire –

He looked at the name plate of the saucer, and found that it was only named VS-210, which was, by any standard, a terrible name! A moment’s consideration and he christened the ship.

– Aboard the Scout Vessel Flashman.
Subject: Your invitation.

I have received your message, and I must apologise for my tardy arrival, but such is the way of things in space, one can’t have everything. Anyway, I’m here now, I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time or anything.

I t will, I’m sure, be my pleasure to visit your world and open a dialogue between our cultures. If you would prefer me to land aboard a ship, I shall enter orbit of the planet in approximately one fifteenth of a revolution of your planet, you may transmit instructions and I shall endeavour to follow them.

Adieu.

He attached a good deal of navigational data, and waited.