NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: For any who didn't see my previous take, my technology is based on that of Battlestar Galactica 2003, and the organizational systems in general, as well as language, but culture, religion, etc. are quite changed, so don't bring up Cylons or the Lords of Kobol and expect an understanding response. This is wide open.

IC: The following transmission was sent through subspace in general bands, in all known languages:

To the denizens of the Universe

Having detected slight subspace transmissions going through, we have become aware of life in the rest of the universe. We would, therefore, like to establish a relationship with the rest of the universe. If you are interested in establishing contact, come to the coordinates indicated in this message, calculated from from the absolute center of the galaxy, which lead to a small colony-system of our people, established for this purpose. After making initial contact, we will allow travel to our homesystems.

Sent with authorization

Septima VI filia Fabius II Valerius of Atlana,
by grace of the gods,
Empress of the Barician Imperium
Commander of the Faithful, Matriarch of the People
Servant of the servants of Zodia

Firmin Remi Frederic Luc Arthur Laurent of Brundaba
President of the Twelve Systems

OOC: Uhm, I was gonna get to the other thread, if you had a little patience.

OOC: Uhm, I was gonna get to the other thread, if you had a little patience.

OOC: It's not for a lack of patience, but rather, a reflection on how I wished to begin this. The other one didn't allow enough freedom for how I could run the first contact, and have more direct communication between governments more quickly.

To the denizens of the Universe

Having detected slight subspace transmissions going through, we have become aware of life in the rest of the universe. We would, therefore, like to establish a relationship with the rest of the universe. If you are interested in establishing contact, come to the coordinates indicated in this message, calculated from from the absolute center of the galaxy, which lead to a small colony-system of our people, established for this purpose. After making initial contact, we will allow travel to our homesystems.

Sent with authorization

Septima VI filia Fabius II Valerius of Atlana,
by grace of the gods,
Empress of the Barician Imperium
Commander of the Faithful, Matriarch of the People
Servant of the servants of Zodia

Firmin Remi Frederic Luc Arthur Laurent of Brundaba
President of the Twelve Systems



The Barician Imperium's message was quickly detected by a patroling Xharnian Space Destoryer. The CSS Novagrad (http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c309/Xharnia/CyborgDestroyer.gif) was currently on the look out for more human colony worlds to be incorporated into the Command.

The Command was a military confederation of seven starsystems seeking protection against alien invaders and piratical raiders that constantly harassed human space seeking to exploit humanity. The Command however had other ideas and started moblizing a massive military organization that created an iron fisted regime that kept the civilians safe and kept order in the space ways.


The CSS Novagrad upon reciving confirmation from the Command promptly began to change course towards the Barician Imperium's colony system. The Novagrad would open diplomatic communications with the Imperium and decide if these people were worthy of further intrest to the Command.

A subspace transmission was sent to Barician space with the intent of showing the Command's intrest....


To: Septima VI filia Fabius II Valerius of Atlana
From: Captain Victor Nasher II
Subject: Diplomacy

The Command, is intrested in your proposal to establish relations with other interstellar powers. I have been authorized from the League to act as direct representative of my home government....



The CSS Novagrad promptly went into phase space and headed towards the coordinates with the intent of showing the Command's military presence to the local governments in this region of space....

Return Transmission -

Your vessel is welcome to our colony.

--Arthur John Johnson
Director of Extraterrestrial Affairs

OOC: I didn't abandon the other thread simply because of impatience, but rather after a reflection of exactly how I wanted to handle this. I'm sorry for the inconvenience.

OOC: Oh, in that case. Carry on.

Return Transmission -

Your vessel is welcome to our colony.

--Arthur John Johnson
Director of Extraterrestrial Affairs



The message was duly noted and the CSS Novagrad upon entering the system raised her energy shields and activated her primary plasma cannons to show that the Destroyer was still on the alert.

This act was not so much a sign of aggression but a cermony of strength to show to the local power that the Command was not to be trifled or taken lightly..


The CO of the Novagrad, Captain Victor Nasher II promptly looked upon the system from his command chair on the bridge of the Destoyer. His Officer of the Deck was with him along with several first class Petty Officers that were serving the bridge crew.

The Captain promptly left the bridge and headed towards the Quarterdeck to give a formal speech to his crew about the mission at hand and to make sure that they be ready for anything. This was a new region of space that had not been explored by the Command and as such the crew was to be on high alert to avoid being targeted by any would be raiders and pirates that might be based in the area..


The bridge crew awaited the Barician reponse to the Destroyer's entrance into their system...

The cry came through the Battlestar Duletto: "Action stations, action stations, set condition one throughout the fleet. This is not a drill, repeat, this is not a drill."

Admiral Thomas Adams came into CIC, immediately saying, "Sitrep."

"Unknown vessel just showed up on dradis, at the edge of the system."
"The 'Command' vessel we're expecting?"
"Yes, sir. They've activated some sort of protective interference around their ship, and are charging energy weapons."

"Order all ships, launch the alert vipers, and get Director Johnson up here."
"Yes, sir."

-----
Whatever show of force the Command intended to show, the Imperium was not one to show weakness, after countless civil wars over a millennium before the discovery of subspace and modern jump drives, the most recent only a few short decades ago.
Over thirty ships awaited the alien delegations, four entire battlestar groups, including four of the aircraft carriers of the stars, the prides of the fleet, the battlestars, four warstars, the dated, yet powerful, brute battleships of the Imperium Fleet, eight cruisestars, the smaller, more maneuverable combat vessels of the navy, and sixteen supportstars, small vessels used for guarding and maintenance duties.

A transmission emerged from the lead battlestar:

Unknown vessel, please identify yourselves, and confirm if you are the CSS Novagrad. This is the sovereign space of the Barician Imperium. Please power down your weapons.

Unknown vessel, please identify yourselves, and confirm if you are the CSS Novagrad. This is the sovereign space of the Barician Imperium. Please power down your weapons.


The CSS Novagrad stood her ground defiant of the apporaching Battlestars and their support craft. The Command's military vessels were always to be armed and ready in unknown regions of space. The sight of an entire fleet was a surpise and the Officer of the Deck a LT Thomas Thorngate decided to send a reponse in lieu of the CO


To: Barician Fleet
From: Officer of the Deck, LT Thomas Thorngate
Subject: Ship Status

I would like to formally appologize for any misunderstanding that seems to have taken place. The CSS Novagrad was merely following standard operating procedures when entering an unknown region of space. We have had some bad experiences with first contacts in the past, and thus the reason for our defensive stance towards your fleet.

We shall power down our weapons but the shields shall remain raised until the the CO gives his constent. He is currently in the Quarterdeck instructing the crew about their assigned duties. I will be acting as his representaive until he finishes his duties with the crew...

The Novagrad's plasma cannons started to power down. The energy field that surrounded the ship however remain around the destroyer acting as a protective shell from any possible first strikes...

As the transmission came through, the Admiral gave the order "Recall vipers, keep the CAP out there."
"Yes, admiral."
"Give me ship-to-ship."
"You're on, Admiral."

The Admiral picked up his phone, bringing it to his head,

Novagrad, this is Admiral Thomas Adams of the Imperial Barician Fleet, commanding the battlestar Duletto, along with the battlestars Aerni, Earuri, and Kylandra. I apologize for any misunderstandings. We have no experience with first contacts, and we must remain vigilant in case actual hostile vessels are in the area, including our own pirates, rogues and rebels. The Director of Extraterrestrial Affairs, Arthur Johnson, is aboardship. If your commander would like to meet with Director Johnson, we'll give you coordinates to an airbase planetside.

Novagrad, this is Admiral Thomas Adams of the Imperial Barician Fleet, commanding the battlestar Duletto, along with the battlestars Aerni, Earuri, and Kylandra. I apologize for any misunderstandings. We have no experience with first contacts, and we must remain vigilant in case actual hostile vessels are in the area, including our own pirates, rogues and rebels. The Director of Extraterrestrial Affairs, Arthur Johnson, is aboardship. If your commander would like to meet with Director Johnson, we'll give you coordinates to an airbase planetside.


The Officer of the Deck, LT Thomas Thorngate listened to the message and promptly ordered the messenger of the watch to send an internal radio com message to the CO. The message would be to respectfully request his presence on the bridge to give his final ruling on the matter diplomacy.

The Executive Officer, Commander Jack Hulls promptly took over the CO's brief down on the quarterdeck and the Captain promptly headed toward his command chair on the bridge upon hearing a recording of the message the CO decided to send his reply...

To: Admiral Thomas Adams
From: Captain Victor Nasher II
Subject: Interstellar Diplomacy

I would be greatly honored to hold this historic meeting upon your lovely planet. I would like to formally request the coordinates to the airbase on the surface of your planet, and that I be allowed a small detachment of five marines to serve as my personal honor guard for this mission. I hope this request is considered a resonable one...

The Captain upon sending this message gave the command to prep his shuttle for departure. The Marines onboard the ship were notified to send a detachment of five marines to the hanger bay. The XO, Commander Jack Hulls was promptly given command of the vessel...

Captain, your honor guard is welcome. The Director will meet you on the planet. The coordinates have been provided, now. You will see the airfield. Duletto out.

A raptor was soon after launched from the Duletto, flying down toward the colony.

Been almost a week so...


*BUMP*

A ship flew smoothly through blue skies that looked down upon an endless land with no visible horizon. Fields of a perfection seldom seen outside the most idyllic visual media stretched below, punctuated by forests of breathtaking density and beauty. Far below the ship moved a range of creatures, of varying heights, colours, build and species all working within the fields, or wandering the paths. None of the species who crewed the ship worked down below, for they were, are, and shall ever be the lords of their Realm, and do not deign to work in the fields.

“Crossing into Moonlight over Midnight Waves”

The ship shimmered in the air, and in a moment the blue sky and green fields were gone, replaced by a night sky illuminated by a magnificent moon while far below rolled vast ocean swells the colour of the midnight sky.

“Adjusting to five stars by the falling moon, adjusting for the North Pillar. Temporal variance compensated for.”

Following paths in the air known to none but their kind and a few of the species who inhabited their demesne the ship turned beneath that glorious moon.

“Departure imminent, preparing to enter the false-universe. Passing the gate in ten.”

A few seconds later the ship shimmered again, this time re-appearing in Barician space, politely near the outskirts of the system.

A message is sent using a language foreign to the Onarrím, but one of those in which the missive was written:
“The Onarrím Warcraft Thorns Borne with Joy greets the servants of the Twelve Systems with gladness, kindness and the possibility of friendship. Your message was received with gladness by the High Houses of the Realm, and salutations proposed.”

The Warcraft itself is almost invisible in the great darkness of space, not only by its appearance but its very manufacture seems to have been designed to evade easy detection. In size it was small by the standards of some races - at just over three hundred metres the ships of some nations would dwarf it. But then, the Onarrím have never been accused of used brute-force tactics in combat.

The Imperium, of course, had only fought wars against itself in the past, and was unprepared for the rather small ship that came into the system, but they did not doubt for a second it was possibly as powerful as a battlestar, though a single battlestar was nearly five times the size of the vessel which had winked into the system.

The transmission was received somewhat warmly, for a military man, by Admiral Adams. After all, it was nice of them to not come in guns ready, and were polite enough to at least give them a chance to get dradis together.

The Admiral picked up his phone,

Attention,Thorns Borne with Joy, this is the Barician Battlestar Duletto. We thank you, and offer in return our most sincere welcome to the Twelve Systems of the Imperium.

The Warcraft accelerated smoothly, leaving no noticeable trade of propulsion matter as it moved. Indeed, the Onarrím technology appeared designed to make the ship all but invisible even whilst its more advanced cloaking mechanisms were not activated. The vessel’s movement is graceful, and very fast. What can be seen and scanned of the ship would suggest that it is not designed as a “muscle” craft.

The Onarrím ships greatly reflected the Onarrím themselves – physically very frail, but fast, agile and with a method of war that lauds patience and the perfect attack rather than the more traditional, some might say more human, exchange of fire.

Before long it is within a few thousand miles of the contact colony and its Battlestars, and the intricate designs upon the hull of the warcraft can just about be picked up by magnification. The ship is sleek, with few sharp edges and little clearly visible weaponry. Its hull is a matt black inlaid upon its entire length with elaborate designs of thorny rose vines, in some places wrapped around the bodies of creatures familiar and not. All of these creatures appear to have expressions of laughter and joy upon their faces, and the thorn designs do not appear to pierce the “flesh” of these artistic renditions.

“We look forward to further discussions. Please advise further, Duletto.”

At this distance, now, it was obvious that "battlestar" was simply an overall descriptive term. Each of the four battlestars was designed, while along the same lines, quite differently, with various angles and roundings all across, and seemed to be designed, not by an engineer, but an artist. Each one also had a different symbol upon it, basking above the nameplates for the four battlestars. These inherent ideas of design were spread throughout the other ships of the Barician fleet, though none were so remarkable as the battlestars.

A transmission came out to the Onarri vessel:

Thorns Borne with Joy, our director of extraterrestrial relations, who you should meet with, is on the surface of the planet. We are providing coordinates where your officer, or whoever will be initiating contact, can arrive. Please bring no more than twelve persons on your mission.

From a distance, it looked like a medium-sized, oblong asteroid, scorched and pitted from the agonies of the birth of some age-old solar system and then set free to wander the depths of space. Its gray, nickel-iron body moved through the void with no seeming purpose to its course.

Yet, a closer inspection revealed a very different picture. The asteroid had spires rising up from the depths of its pitted surface, and, though it did not put the talent on display, it could alter its course at the will of those who drove it. The scorch marks, upon closer examination, spoke not of random collisions, but of the fire of artificial weapons, and of a fearsome defense that the inhabitants of the Hollow World had mounted against a determined foe.

A relatively small, cube-shaped ship flew up and to the asteroid and into a crevice near what was in reality the bow of a huge space ship. Once inside, it wasted no time in reaching a parking berth and securing itself to a rapidly-extended ombilical.

Straight through the ombilical, which also functioned as a traveling tube, one could levitate to the main feeder for the asteroid's commuters, and, from there, with only one turn, to a small chamber marked "Hall of Leadership." Within that hall sat what seemed a rather motley assortment of beings--once members of several different races, but now all nearly alike, sitting in a strange sort of cybernetic dance of information. All were now pale-skinned and enwrapped in machinery. It was, in fact, difficult to tell where the machinery ended and their bodies began.

Brothers, the time has arrived, sent Falsus, a former human. Though he was physically small, the other members of the council had come to respect his lionhearted bravery, and the strange combination of warrior and builder that asserted itself from within his soul.

I don't suppose I can talk you out of this, even now, replied Selveren, a tall but rather thin former Andorian. I still say that it is inevitable that, through contacting them, we will inevitably expose this new culture to the wrath of the Sleepwalkers, and that this is unconscionable.

Nonsense, sent Brach, a former Klingon. We haven't seen a single sign of the Sleepwalkers in almost a year. They've finally acknowledged our stubbornness!

Sleepwalkers never acknowledge resistence. They fight harder to overcome it. This message did not eminate from any single individual. Rather, it came from a composite being known as Vox Populi, the Voice of the Many. They'll be back.

We can warn the Twelve Systems, Falsus sent. We can help them resist.

Will it be enough to save them, though? Selveren asked.

We will not find out if we cower in a shell and wait for them to destroy us, Brach replied. We should stop the Sleepwalkers. We should--.

They are enslaved, the Voice of the Many cut in, as we once were. We decided long ago that we could not destroy them while the possibility exists that they might yet be saved.

We've already been through all of this, Falsus continued. Let's stop arguing in circles. We know what we've decided. Let's send the ship.

You're absolutely certain that you want to go with them, Councilmember Falsus? Selveren asked.

Of course I am, Falsus replied. We've got to show that we're willing to meet leader-to-leader. How else can we hope to win their trust, especially if they know something about the Sleepwalkers.

With that, Falsus rose from his chair, and was instantly aloft. He levitated out of the Chamber of Leadership and then sped off to the ship that had just come into its parking bay.

Ahhh, Falsus sent out, good ol' Prophet's Hope. Best ship in the galaxy. The words were not lost on the crew around the little Borg.

In an hour, Prophet's Hope had relaunched and sent its farewell to Hollow World. In another, it was entering Twelve Systems space. As it arrived, it sent a message, in the languages of the original transmission that it had received.


This is the New Borg ship Prophet's Hope to representatives of
the Twelve Systems. We seek peaceful relations with you, and the
possibility of an alliance against a mutual threat. Please respond.


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

OOC:

Thought I'd bring something into this thread that it was previously lacking: a source of conflict.

A small, shuttle-type vehicle slid out of a concealed compartment on the Warcraft and began its descent toward the indicated co-ordinates. Much like its parents ship the shuttle appears designed to slip by sensor devices. It enters the atmosphere with little difficulty and descends alarmingly quickly while heat dispersal appears to provide no obstacle – the air around it does not even ignite, so smooth is the ship’s hull.

The shuttle lands perfectly at the indicated co-ordinates, a door sliding smoothly open and those inside leaving the small ship.

The first to step out has red eyes lacking either pupil or white. He is tall, perhaps six foot and three inches, and impossibly slender. Close-fitting bronze-coloured segmented armour covers his narrow body from neck to toe and is impeccably worked with thorn-mazes and tiny roses, picked out with rubies, peeking out from behind gold-inlaid vine, thorns and emerald leaves. The armour is obviously incredibly sophisticated artificer work and looks like a peculiar cross between far-future and ancient past. What appears to be a sheathed sword is fastened to his left hip. Over this intricately worked armour is worn a very simple white open-cut coat. It falls to the back of his knees, is perfectly fitted and has a bronze pattern worked into the sleeves. His dark red hair is carefully bound in three braids, held close with gold wiring, and falls to the small of his back. His skin is pale as parchment and seems to glow ever so faintly with an inner light. He looks about him impassively, a haughty cast to his eyes and mouth as five others step out behind him.

Two of those who follow him are apparently of the same species, and both dressed similarly.

One has armour is inlaid with silver, and bearing snowdrops rather than roses, which are picked out in diamond and emerald, the coat bears a different design than that of her companions. This one also bears a sword and also wears her hair in the three-braided style bound with the wire of a precious metal. The Onarrán’s skin is a perfect white and glows faintly; her eyes are of the same type as his companion but are white tinged with pale blue. Her attitude is respectful of hher crimson-eyed colleague, but utterly self-assured.

The other bears a great resemblance to the first of the three, but with the ornamentations and designs on his armour and coat much less elaborate, and his bound in two braids rather than the three sported by the others.

It is this one that speaks as two humans step out, dressed in tunic, trousers, boots and open-fronted coat. One all in dark red highlighted with cold, the other in a deep emerald green decorated with silver embroidery. A rose and a snowdrop respectively are worked upon the left breast of both the coat and tunic. Both humans wear neatly trimmed beards and have dark brown hair tied into three braids bound with non-precious metal hung with small medallions. Each has an elegant rifle is slung over their shoulder.

The red-eyed individual with the less ornate armour bows from the waist to whatever delegation is waiting, and speaks.

“My honour is to declare for his grace, the Eald of Thorns Borne with Joy, Æthelstan nas’Illúphændaion scio’vail of the High House Rose, called Æthelstan vail’Rose, accompanied by his bondsman Abba chai’Illúphændai Abbasson born of the North Humbrians, called Abba. My honour also to declare for her grace, companion to the Eald, Erewealh nai’Treidarria scio’vail of the High House Snowdrop, called Erewealh vail’Snowdrop, accompanied by her bondsman Benedic chai’Tredarr Wulfheresson, called Benedic.
“I have the honour to be Borrenede nas’Jyaeillorn weft’varr, acknowledged by the High House Rose, called Borrenede weft’Rose.”

There were thirteen people awaiting them. Most of them, including the one in front, wore three-piece suits, of a blue, green or black color. There was one man in crimson robes, bearded (the only one so among them), standing with the other eleven behind the leading man. There was also a squad of twelve guards placed in various places around, holding firearms and in battle-armor.

The leading man opened, saying, "Your honors, welcome to Newhope, a colony of the Imperium. May I introduce myself, I am Arthur Johnson of Afritana. May I introduce, the others with me," he began indicating behind him, from left to right, "this is Cvetko Darjai of Alton, this is Ludwig Krauss of Arcata, this is Vito Dinizza of Astranulon, this is Liberus Leonius of Atlana, this is Jarl Martinius of Arcaron, this is Eleanore Merlaut of Brundaba, this is Magdalene Jorgensen of Libantis, this is Herman Vanderberg of Libbenis, this is Todor Mladenic of Molesculon, this is Danijel Draganic of Noralis, this is Virgil Bogdanich of Senzalona, and, last but not least," he said, indicating the man in robes, "is Rein Unduli of the Kaltri, her majesty's personal representative."

They looked toward the table, filled with twenty-six chairs around a hexagonal table, and Johnson indicated, "Please, take a seat, tell us about yourselves."


---------

"Newborg vessel, this is the battlestar Duletto. We welcome you to this system, and ask you to clarify."

Prophet's Hope to Duletto:

The Borg are mentally linked via digital network. In the case of
the New Borg, this facilitates communication between individuals;
in the case of the Old Borg, it is used to enslave the populace.

The Old Borg do not tollerate our dissent. They attack us
periodically, as they do any other culture with whom they come
in contact. It is their way to digitally enslave other cultures,
and to make them part of the Old Borg. We may require aid in
defending ourselves from a future attack.

Refusing to aid us will not prevent the Old Borg from attacking
you; however, it may delay them. Coming to our aid will ensure
that we will provide you with technical and tactical support
against their efforts, among other things.

Whereas we celebrate free will, we will respect any decision you
make as to whether to support us militarily, limit our contact to
discussions and overtures of friendship or to simply send us on
our way. You will need to make this decision relatively soon,
however, as, although we would never attempt to threaten you,
we will be moving on in order to minimize any threat that they
may pose to the cultures in this region, unless we can secure
the aid of allies, which we will reciprocate.

The Onarrím move to take their seats with a grace and elegance that is quite inhuman. The three slender creatures seat themselves and the two bondsmen take up positions behind the chairs of their masters. It is Æthelstan vail’Rose who speaks.

“What you have us tell you? What of yourselves? Your culture, history, trading power and politics?”

He looks a little discomforted at speaking in short sentences (in imitation of his hosts), his words purposely lacking the long and often complicated syntax used by the Onarrím within their own tongue.

"I apologize if how I speak makes you uncomfortable. We Afritanans have the idea that anything that must be said can be said quickly and succinctly." The director, obviously, had a limited empathic ability, which he could feel the general emotions of his guests.

"The Imperium, as a government over all of us, has stood for five millenia. In fact, we use a year system based on the date Baricia was founded, the first of Virgo, year one. I suppose, I should detail that today's date is the second of Aries, 5768. We spread from our original homeworld, Escetis, about two millenia ago, and have had full faster than light capability for perhaps a thousand years, though nowhere near as sophisticated, of course, as yours. We've only just discovered how to jump any significant distance away from our home systems.

Our long separations have led to the development of twelve different cultures in each of the twelve systems, with different languages and general cultures. We continue to have the same faith, however, for the vast majority. War has been a repeated act in our culture. The most recent only ended in the last sixty years. You will note, our ships in orbit of different designs. None of those ships is under a quarter century old, though all fully modern. The Duletto above, in fact, was the Afritanan flagship in the last war.

We are a democracy tempered by federalism, rule of law and the Empress. My superior, the President, is directly elected by the people at large to run the government. We have an appointed courts system, appointed by the Empress on the advice of the President, and a powerful, highly coordinated mediation organization, the Kaltri, of whom Master Unduli is a member, who serve directly under the Empress. We have two houses in our democratic assembly, the Council of the Twelve Tribes and the Imperial Legislature. The former is elected by the twelve systems, the latter is elected by the people.

On trade, however, I'm afraid I can tell you little. Since we've only ever been trading with one another, I have no knowledge of how we could modify to an expanded trading system, though I know the President and her majesty are definitely interested in such a thing.

------

Duletto to Prophet's Hope

I am intrigued by your message, and, on my authority, I offer a meeting on my battlestar, the Duletto, to six of your people, maximum. If you will explain more to me of the military threat, I will be able to speak to my superiors in my homeland on this issue. Please, join me so we can discuss.

Well, who should go? sent Falsus.

What are your priorities? Vox Populi replied.

This is a first contact, so I want to show them our world with open arms. I want a team that's multi-ethnic and multi-disciplinary, to let them know just how much we have to offer, how we live, and what we value.

You do us proud, Brach sent from his seat in the council chambers, but we must also do what we can to warn them, to protect them from the Sleepwalkers.

Concur, Falsus replied. First selection: Vox Populi. Prepare a representative. We need to show them a compound individual. As Vox is our Librarian, Vox will be the group's archivist.

Excellent choice echoed through the collective, but No brainer was there also.

Second choice: Zell. Just as we need to show the full extent of our cybernation, we need someone who will show the minimum of cybernation that we tollerate among us. Zell is a Starship Commander, and will serve as the team Administrator and coordinator.

Third choice: Shrevel. We are a tollerant society, and Shrevel's sense of humor will show them just how much we're willing to put up with.

There were snickers and guffaws.

Ahhh, Shrevel sent, my adoring fans have spoken yet again!

Shrevel is a psychologist. He will serve as the team's councilor.

Fourth Choice: Q-Bert. What Borg contingent would be complete without a mechanoid member? Q-Bert will serve as the team's transportation and then reset into humanoid mode to attend the conference, aiding in security and physical labor.

Fifth Choice: Omigott. His engineering and people skills will be invaluable if we are to show our new friends that we have technology to offer them--and to evaluate the level of theirs, and what they may have to offer us. He will serve as the group's engineering consultant.

Finally, at the risk of broadcasting an arrogance I do not feel, I shall attend myself. I am a High Councilmember, and will represent leadership and security functions.

As the choices settled in, a wave of approval swept through the collective. To be sure, there were those who nitpicked here and there, but the consensus was that the choices were reasonable.

All members of this Diplomatic Party should gather immediately at the main hanger for diusembarcation.

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

@*#$)@#! sent Q-Bert. Why am I always the one who carries folk?

Because you're so good at it, Shrevel sent back. In fact, if I didn't know better, I'd almost think that you were made for it!

Shut the @$*# up, Shrevel, Q-Bert sent. Shrevel was used to Q-Bert's vocabulary by now, and understood that there was no animosity in the statement.

Ahhhhh. Another Shut-Up-Shrevel point. Music to my ears.

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

It was a diverse group that strode through Duletto's halls and into its anointed meeting place.

Tiny Falsus led the group. He was small, and, unlike most Borg, both his hands and both his eyes were mechanical. He wore a smooth harness that covered most of his head, and a flowing robe in blue, green, gold and black that showed the New Borg logo on a patch over his left breast. Though he was small, he moved with the unusual grace of a man who practiced walking as a way of life--a hint of the extensive martial arts training that was a part of his being.

Beside him, Zell was contrast not only to Falsus but to the rest of the group. She appeared to have no implants. Rather, the former Romulan wore a form-fitting two-piece suit that, though it was the same color scheme as the one Falsus wore, at once hid and revealed every detail of her long-lined femininity.

Behind them, Omigott, a tall former Andorian, strode alongside Shrevel and Unit 24. Omigott turned to look at Shrevel, a former Tellarite, for a moment, and they exchanged grins. Unit 24, a former Cardassian, put her hand on Shrevel's arm, and they continued down the hallway, servomotors singing in harmony.

Finally, Q-Bert brought up the rear. Though he towered over the rest of the group--even Omigott, who stood almost seven feet tall--his stride betrayed surprising dexterity. Though his face was mechanical, whirring gears acted as facial features, and it was easily seen that he was laughing along with his three colleagues.

"Thank you again for agreeing to meet with us," Falsus said. His voice wasn't so much deep as sharp. Its tones alone carried a certain respect.

The halls of the battlestar Duletto were almost carved, and very artistically so. There was a military efficiency to the design, however, while artistic. Flags of yellow and purple filled the hallways of the battlestar, and was found on the uniforms of almost all the crew seen, though the uniform itself was a dark blue. Finally, when they arrived at the conference room, there was a hexagonal table with twelve chairs, with four people sitting on one side. Here, the flags were deep red and yellow, interspersed with the yellow and dark purple. The four rose up, and the oldest among them was gray-haired mixed with a dark brown, wearing octagonal glasses on his face, as he rose, and he had a flag on his arm, the yellow and dark purple as throughout the ship. The other three officers, however, each had a different flag patch. The other man had a flag of blue and red, the older looking of the two women officers wore one of purple and blue, and the younger wearing a flag of green and yellow.

The first man began, "Of course. Welcome to the Duletto. May I introduce Commander Nervus Deodatus of Atlana, commander of the warstar Rynanna, Commander Jelka Nenandic of Noralis, commander of the cruisestar Anomeri, and Colonel Sigrun Eliasen of Libantis, executive officer of the battlestar Phobru. I am Admiral Thomas Adams of Afritana, commander of the Duletto, senior officer in this sector."

"I am Falsus, Member of the New Borg Leadership Council," said the small Borg. "I help to lead, and to enforce consensus."

"I am Zell, commander of the cube ship Prophet's Hope, which you have graciously allowed to park off too the side of your fleet, opposite one other alien vessel." She smiled as she spoke, and it was as if the lights in the room brightened slightly.

"I am Shrevel, Lead Councilor." Shrevel's smile was more of a mischievous grin.

"I ahm Omigott, Cheif Engineer of the cube sheep Prophet's Hope." Omigott's high-pitched voice and lilting accent belied his size.

"I speak for The Voice of the Many, of whom I am a part. You may refer to me--us--as 'Voice' if you wish. We are here to archive this momentous event." The Borg unit did not smile. She spoke almost as if in a trance.

"I'm Q-Bert, and I do the...," the large mechanoid paused for a moment, as if he was about to say something. The Voice reached out an arm and gently placed it on his huge hand. She was obviously not in a trance of any kind, but aware of things that some of the others could not see nor fathom. Q-Bert seemed to think better of what he was about to say, "...work around here." Though very large, he seemed to have no skin. Instead, his entire body seemed like it was made up of pipes and wires, with small components whirring and moving within him.

"Thank you once again for your most gracious welcome," they all finished in unison.

It was difficult to tell which two of them were the most different--yet, there was an unmistakable unity and camaraderie that transcended their differences.

Æthelstan smiled faintly.

“We, as a species, find ourselves fond of lengthy forms of address and formality. Five millennia is an impressively long length of time for a human species to maintain a form of government...it has been our experience that your race are often temperamental.
“Our method of measuring time generally fails to make sense to those of you in this place; we find it as peculiar being a place with, generally, a single measure of time as the denizens of this side find the different rates of time in the Realm.
“Our warcraft are often hundreds of years old, as you would reckon them, but the nature of their construction means that this is not a problem. That war is common amongst your kind does not surprise us – our experience of humans being what it is. We long ago ordered ourselves that disputes are resolved by conflicts of champions, or ritualised combat...a war between two of the High Houses would be a terrible thing to behold.
“Our government is arranged in the form of a parliament, with the Houses voting upon issues then confirmed or denied by a conclave of the High Houses...although in practice that which the High Houses desire normally comes to pass.
"Naturally, each House reigns supreme over its territories, save where conflict emerges over visitors and wandering kindreds.”

He pauses to see how the thirteen representatives take this information.

“Mercantilism is one fairly common way to open up trade routes, although the issue of faster-than-light can pose problems. Some of the peoples we have fought against had methods that may be suited.”

It was difficult to tell which two of them were the most different--yet, there was an unmistakable unity and camaraderie that transcended their differences.

The four officers were obviously somewhat uneasy, but years of training against showing emotion won out, and they managed to avoid anything else. The Admiral said,

"Well, on the subject of your warning of these 'Old Borg', perhaps you could explain further this specific relationship between you and them, and exactly the threat they pose to the Imperium."

“Mercantilism is one fairly common way to open up trade routes, although the issue of faster-than-light can pose problems. Some of the peoples we have fought against had methods that may be suited.”

After his first statement, the director smiled slightly, saying "Yes, I can see how your system works, at least, generally. The Twelve Systems still have many sovereignties under the government, and, at times, the Imperium was not the only government. Baricia, our capital and largest city on our homeworld, Escetis, did not become ruler of our entire world for over a millennium after its founding, though we date from its founding. And, at times, the Imperium's sovereignty has been--shall we say--lacking? Until the last century, we had been, de facto, twelve separate nations, all swearing fealty, in theory, to the Imperium, though all of systems respected the Kaltri and their role as the defenders of justice through the Imperium, their representation of the Emperor himself--or, as now, Empress, and we all followed a single body of law, which we call the Precedent, and our courts and system fo justice have always been one.

As far as mercantilism, I believe it would probably be the most viable solution, at least, initially, though the libertarians and free marketeers will fight it hand and foot in the Legislature, the Council and Empress could possibly force it through. As far as faster than light travel, I'm afraid I know quite little of technology, though I am aware that the new advances will allow us to travel several light years in the blink of an eye."

"We are a splinter group of the Old Borg," the Voice said in her strange, biomechanical voice. "We use nearly the same technology. For example, the greatest difference between Prophet's Hope and an Old Borg ship is that she has a name, while Old Borg Cube Ships are designated only by number.

"The Old Borg, whom we refer to as 'Sleepwalkers,' are a single, compound individual with millions of component members. They attempt to transform other cultures--all individuals in a culture--into more components of this individual. They call this process 'absorption.' You can see that each member of our party was born on a different planet. This is because the Old Borg attempted to enslave each of our respective cultures, and more. We Ne Borg, too, will take on new members, but, unlike the Old Borg, we do so on an individual basis, and each individual must volunteer to undergo the process. We refer to it as 'enjoinment.'

"Forgive us if we do not have full confidence in our understanding of your units of time, but, from the communications that we have been able to receive, we believe that it was roughly twenty or so of your Yahrens ago that we split off from the Old Borg. They have pursued us ever since and attempted to reabsorb us. We have adapted. Instead of being reabsorbed, we have enjoined many of their drones. This has led the Sleepwalkers to begin destroying their ships if the individuals on board them are swayed to adopt our lifestyle.

"We have taken residence aboard a hollowed out asteroid. As we have moved farther and farther from Old Borg space, their attacks have become less and less frequent. It has now been almost three quarters of one of your Yahrens since our last encounter with the sleepwalkers. Nonetheless, we feel that it is only a matter of time before they return. They are nothing if not persistent.

"If they encounter you, they will attempt to absorb you. They will tell you that it is futile to resist their efforts, but we, obviously, are a reminder that this is not necessarily the case."

The Voice stopped speaking, and Falsus began. "We have studied your culture and believe that you are neither xenophobic nor aggressively expansionist. We believe that we can come to a political agreement. We can offer you access to technology that would greatly improve the quality of your lives. We need supplies and, with the Sleepwalkers so long away from us, we have begun to think of finding a place to live. Naturally, we would not do so at the expense of others...but a home is something that we think of from time to time." His voice trailed off.

"Ahem..." the Admiral said, uneasily, as Colonel Eliasen seemed to move to speak, as she then leaned into the Admiral's ear, speaking very quietly, trying to avoid being heard from the New Borg as she whispered...not have pagans...holy units....

The Admiral then said, "Apologies, the term 'yahren' is only used in religious context, and, at 850-some days, is two to three civil years long, depending on the year. I'm not exactly sure of how the yahren works myself..."

Eliasen spoke, "There are twelve days in a secton, six sectons in a sexton, twelve sextons in a yahren."

"Thank you...Colonel," said the Admiral, obviously not completely happy with the officer before him. He continued, "but we use a Standard Year, based on the orbit of Escetis, our homeworld, while yahrens are, in our faith, the period of time it takes the universe to rotate once. The universe is, of course, too large to measure such, but that is the belief. A standard year has twelve or thirteen months of 29 to 30 days, depending on the year.

On your other topics, of course, supplies we can probably offer, if by supplies you mean food and fuel, though our tylium systems probably run substantially different from yours. Political agreement on such a trade of technology for supplies would have to come through the foreign affairs directorate, who will probably send out a committee to meet with you after I report.

Of course, as an Admiral of the Imperium, and by the authority vested in me as an Afritanan officer, I offer your ship amnesty in this system until that time, unless you have some objection...?"

"Amnesty from what?" Falsus asked. "Have we committed some crime?"

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

OOC:

Did you mean "political asylum?"

Æthelstand nodded ever so slightly, his face still showing no emotion or expression whatsoever. A small nod to vail’Snowdrop, who spoke next.

“Should discussion go well the High Houses of Rose, Snowdrop and Violet are agreeable to the establishment of a joint-stock corporation as the medium for trade between the Seven High Houses of the Everlasting Empire and the Twelve Systems of the Barician Imperium. The company to be formed holding monopoly for four star-tides of the Rosetower District, equivalent to ninety-seven Terran years.”

The three Onarrím watch the delegates impassively, before weft’Rose speaks.

“Perhaps you have certain things unique to your nation that are useful for trade? Or something that would benefit this discussion?”

The individual amongst the delegates would get mostly the same sort of feelings from the Onarrím – first that they are hard to read, despite their appearance being hugely alien to humanity. Second, a vague unease at on this side of the Wall, and also a curiosity mixed with avarice.

"Amnesty from what?" Falsus asked. "Have we committed some crime?"

"Ah...amnesty is probably not the right word among separate nations. I believe a safe haven...an asylum would be the proper word. Forgive me, but centuries of internal wars without there being any authority outside the Imperium, 'amnesty' granted by Imperial authority or one of the twelve governments has meant asylum from one or more of the twelve governments, each of which technically represents the Empress on their system, and amnesty is granted by the authority or one of the other governments, also in the name of the Empress. I apologize for the misunderstanding."

OOC: It was an intentional "error" RL, an unintentional mistake IC, forgive me for not clarifying in that post what I meant.


The individual amongst the delegates would get mostly the same sort of feelings from the Onarrím – first that they are hard to read, despite their appearance being hugely alien to humanity. Second, a vague unease at on this side of the Wall, and also a curiosity mixed with avarice.

"Forgive me, but what do you mean by a Terran year?" asked the Director, somewhat confused, "Is it some interstellar standard? The Twelve Systems use the standard Barician year, made up of 353 to 385 standard days of twenty-four hours."

OOC: For reference, it's identical to the Hebrew calendar used in Israel and the Jewish faith.

Bump?

Wesat'Rose blinks, then explains.

"The humans of Earth are what you might call the most commonly encountered creatures in this universe. Their homeworld revolves upon a twenty-four hour day, with three hundred and sixty-five days in a year. It is a convenient interstellar standard."

"We appreciate your offer," Zell said, her face taking on a look of formality, "but we can't accept or reject it. If we're to stay here, we'll have to put the question of doing so to a vote in our collective."

"It would be...fraught with technical difficulties," Omigott continued. "Hollow World is large enough to perturb some of the orbeets een your solar seestem, eef we move her in too close."

"The last thing we would want to do," Falsus finished, "would be to harm those who had welcomed us with such open arms as yourself."

Omigott straightened. "Falsus--the seegnals," he said.

"I heard," Falsus replied, a look of annoyance spreading across his face. "How did the thing get all the way here?"

"Tell them," Zell said.

"But we're not sure," Omigott said.

"They need to know," Zell replied.

"Alright. Our long-range scanners have detected an electronic signature that might mean trouble. It's not something we built, but it was built to stop us."

"The Old Borg numbered the species that they encountered," Omigott continued. "Thees arteefact was made by species 10,482, the Cylurians."

"When the Old Borg tried to absorb them, they fought back," Falsus said. "They constructed powerful war machines with neutronium hulls and meson neutralization weapons."

"Somehow," Omigott furthered, "some of the prototypes were acteevated and got loose. They deestroyed the Cylurian civilization and spread out from there."

"Gentlemen," Falsus concluded, "what we have here is a Cylurian Planet Eater. It is extremely dangerous. It can neutralize starships and destroy entire planets. Its neutronium hull is a tough armor to crack. It is self-replicating--it will literally tear a planet apart and build more copies of itself from the rubble. It is a threat to any civilization with which it comes in contact. If one of these catches wind of your civilization, it could well destroy everything that you've spent the last thousand years building. It must be stopped."

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

OOC: Planet eater from STTOS. If you don't want to face it down, let me know and it'll just fly off in another direction.