Things can always get worse. - Confederate Diplomat Dreams of Something More, Post C3 War.
It was a small ball of light that appeared just outside the orbit of the furthest planet from the sun, exactly opposite of that planet from the star. The bead of light was present for nearly twenty minutes, just enough time for the FTL commo beacons to report on it, before it suddenly expanded. Gauzy white light erupted from one point, forming a funnel with the narrow end connected to the bead of light. At the far end of the funnel the light suddenly appeared to unfold, like an origami flower, into a complex construction of gauzy white light.
On the Confederate Space Force vessels alarms went off on all decks. The call to Battle Stations went out. Torchships were loaded and fueled, guns were loaded, shields spun up to full power, and the task forces began to deploy to predetermined points in the system.
From out of the light sculpture slid a massive ship, which seemed to coast along, unlit, the faint light of the star making the ship look a flat gray. Another massive ship, then another, and another exited the flower pattern. Smaller ships began to appear, moving up to take positions around the larger ships.
The beacons and transponders went live.
Lanaktallan Unified Military Council code. Crusade Code. Confederate Code. Sixth Republic code. Codes from dozens of species were broadcast, identifying the ships themselves.
The Ship of Theseus, Shadow of the Argo, Memory of the Kalkitakik. The Terrible Silence of the Ducklings. The Puffies Who No Longer Dance. Those Who Scream Inside the Overmind. The Podlings Do Not Sing.
All of the ship registries held a dark aura of malevolence and anger.
Once the last of the ships had exited, a nearly three hour process, a fifth of them hung back around the light sculpture, the others oriented themselves and started to move into the stellar system.
Heading for the Unified Council World.
They ignored the Confederate vessels shadowing them, with the only exception being a single pass of targeting systems. Even the 'subs' sunk deep in the subspace foam found themselves scanned by a single high powered targeting array.
After that the only emissions were the light sources lighting up the hulls, their transponders, and the sullen glow of their engines.
-----
Dreams of Something More was listening to yet another report of the damage inflicted by the shade attack nearly three months ago. The casualties, the property damage, the accusations it was a deliberate attack by Terran forces and thus the Confederacy, the claims that Space Force and the Confederate Armed Services had not performed their duties in protecting the system, and the loss of the FTL communication system as well as most advanced communication equipment.
The report was red on white. The computer system was heavy and bulky.
Anything over 480p was still considered too risky.
The Mantid diplomat sighed, sitting in her comfortable chair, petting Mister Rings, wearing an Animeland wrap and comfortable Red Plains Warrior moccasins. She adjusted the fancy box hat with the tip of one bladearm as another Lanaktallan System Representative took the stage, moving up behind the podium.
There hasn't been this many people in this chamber actually doing their jobs since the Shade Swarm Apocalypse DLC for iCiv dropped two months ago, she sighed to herself.
Beside her, the Mosizlak scratched his hip, his arm bumping the magac pistol he carried instead of the board with a nail in it.
Her implant chimed and she frowned. It carried the header from Words Spoken We Fear, her intelligence and analysis officer. She tapped her comlink implant and a low-rez red and white and black icon that Speaks used appeared.
"Madame Diplomat, we have a serious situation," the black mantid said quickly. "I'm sending 117 to you."
"What kind of situation?" Dreams asked.
The image that Speaks answered with made Dreams feel as if she had suddenly been drenched with cold water.
She recognized it.
Of course she did. She had been briefed when those ships had been spotted attacking Atrekna held systems, leaving nothing but death and destruction in their wake.
Quack Quack Motherfucker sat in 320p glory in her vision.
"Are they opening fire?" Dreams asked.
"No, but they're on a wide looping course that will bring them to the high orbits of the Council World," Speaks answered.
Dreams could hear the stress in his voice.
"Any transmissions?" she asked.
"Not yet," the black mantid said. "We'll know when they do."
Dreams found herself nodding and her implant automatically put up a nodding emoji in the reply box.
"I'll keep you updated," Speaks said.
"Please do," Dreams said.
The linkage clinked as it shut down.
A small part of her was enjoying the tech downgrade. She found she kind of liked the bulky equipment, the stark text and limited graphical systems. Even the return to powdered iron on plastic tape data systems was interesting. Modern compression meant the 'tape' could hold massive amounts of data in a small area made the reels and spools deceptively data dense.
But it still all looked clunky and primitive.
Dreams pressed the button to interrupt the current speaker, which was lamenting, understandably and rightly, the massive loss of life on the worlds he was responsible.
The speaker ignored her.
She pressed it again.
Then again.
Dreams of Something More was suddenly glad she had a carapace and performed heat regulation through her ichor and her book lungs rather than evaporation systems. She knew she'd be covered in sweat.
She turned to the Terran behind her.
"I need to get up there," she said quietly.
The Mosizlak frowned slightly.
"Ship of Theseus and The Quack are in system, so are other capital ships of their armada, accompanied by full fleet strength," she said.
The Mosizlak's eyebrows shot up and he nodded. He stepped forward as Dreams kept tapping the button to be recognized.
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The Lanaktallan was still droning on about profit and loss to his systems.
"SIIIIIILEEEEENCE!" the Mosizlak bellowed out, his voice rolling over the Lanaktallan's and filling the chamber, echoing off the walls.
Everyone went silent.
Dreams got up and moved to the podium.
"Move," Mosizlak growled at the Lanaktallan.
The Lanaktallan ran back to his seat, stopping for a moment to press a hand against his flank and breathe heavy before finishing running the last of the 200 meters.
Dreams moved up to the podium, letting the lift built into the floor raise her up.
She adjusted the microphone.
A worried silence settled over the gathered representatives.
She cleared her throat. Hooves shuffled, stomachs clenched, jaws went tight.
"What I feared has come to pass," she said softly. "We must hope for diplomatic resolution or all is lost."
One of the Lanaktallan stood up.
"What has come to pass?" he asked, his voice full of arrogance.
"The Earthlings have arrived."
The Lanaktallan sat down, feeling faint.
-----
The majority of the fleet stayed back from the Council World. Only three ships left from the fleet, three blocky, gray hulled, crude looking vessels that moved silently. They had no names, just hull numbers they were broadcasting with their transponders.
The orbital control management gave the three vessels their entry arcs and their berth, choosing to allow all three to land in the same berth normally reserved for a larger vessel.
The ships silently landed at the spaceport not far from the Unified Council Chambers.
Dreams nibbled on the end of her bladearm, watching as the ships sat silent for nearly twenty minutes. She could see reports that the three ships had scanned everything on their way in and were now performing additional scans.
Finally, the center ship had a platform lower.
Those standing on the platform looked like nothing anyone watching had seen. Two thick legs, a pointed oval, like a slightly squished hard boiled egg, two large arms with six fingered/two thumbed gripping hands. All dull gray metal and glossy black glass. There was eight of them. They held massive rifle of glossy macroplas with glowing sections. They were grouped up three to a side with one in front and one in back.
In the middle was a hover-dolly with a crate on it.
Dreams felt her abdomen go cold.
She had seen video recordings of those things ripping apart entire cities. Tens of thousands of them steadily advancing into enemy fire, seemingly uncaring about their own casualties as they directed pinpoint firepower to rapidly eliminate the enemy.
They were classified as warmeks. Big enough for a human to fit into, but no real sign of how.
It was an almost completely alien design.
"Still keeping anyone from getting a good look at them, their society, or anything else about them," Speaks whispered.
Dreams just nodded. "At least those warmeks aren't loaded with missile and rocket pods. There might be a chance here."
117 was watching closely, the space between his antenna clear. He was leaned slightly forward, watching the low rez 480p video that had a slight reddish hue. The way they moved, the way the joints flexed, their center of balance, how much ground pressure it looked like the 'feet' of the warmeks were putting out. The technological warmek looked more like it was biological, made of some kind of dull gray material and glossy black. It was nearly ten meters tall, five meters wide, and six meters long, the backwards jointed legs with a hock joint nearly eight meters long at current configuration. 117 could tell that the warmek would stand fifteen meters high if the legs were fully extended and that the arms could reach forward ten meters beyond the curved forward edge of the main body.
The little green mantid knew a war machine when he saw it, despite the fact it was unlike anything he had ever seen.
Sees That Which May or May Not Be leaned forward slightly, touching her antenna to Dreams of Something More's antenna.
**I can hear them talking to each other** the Seer whispered through her sensitive telepathic channel. Dreams was startled. Seers rarely used their telepathy. **not loudly. I can't tell what they are saying but they are talking with telepathy. Like gravel on sheet metal, only low and mumbling. Between one another. Once in a while I can hear a chirp of compressed thought being tightly focused and transmitted. Could be natural phasic powers or some kind of phasic system**
**so... Earthlings for sure** Dreams said.
The Seer just nodded as she leaned back.
The procession moved down the cleared and blockaded street slowly.
Dreams just hoped that the gathered assemblybeings would remember that she had briefed them on just how volatile these people were.
I told them, repeatedly, that the Earthlings use kinetic kill weapons on planets, grav-focused stellar corona plasma lances on planets, planet crackers, as well as nova bombs and hypernova sparks, she thought to herself. That the Earthlings are perfectly content to live in a denuded universe if it means that everyone leaves them the hell alone.
She sighed and nibbled on the tip of her bladearm again as the procession reached the halfway mark.
The only thing we know about them is that they are human behind their strange creations, that they have at least one stellar system inside of a nebula, and that their ship designs look unchanged for thousands of years.
The procession kept moving.
They intently paranoid of other beings finding out where they live, what they look like, their genetic samples, or anything about them, she mused. Can't say I blame them, since the last time they let everyone else know about them, my people Glassed them and killed billions of them.
"Are you all right, Madame Diplomat?" Words Spoken We Fear asked.
Dreams could tell the black mantid was worried.
"Yes. That they are willing to land on the planet means they are willing to talk," Dreams said. "This is an anomaly in their encounters and relations with other species. I am hoping we can find a diplomatic resolution that won't cost a few billion lives and a few dozen denuded systems."
Speaks nodded, leaning back.
The massive warmeks stopped at the entrance. The box opened and Dreams found herself leaning forward slightly to see it.
Inside were multiple cubes of folded white plastic, electronics, and chromed articulation devices.
The cubes unfolded into five Lanaktallan made of soft slighly opaque white plastic surfaces with chrome articulation systems underneath the plastic. Four of them were holding plastic rifles that the cases were see-through, allowing the observer to tell that they were plasma rifles. Loaded, but without the chamber pressurized and charged.
The fifth was larger, the plastic surfaces slightly grayish.
The artificial Lanaktallan moved into the foyer and stopped in front of Help Desk.
"POLITE INQUIRY: LOCATION OF DIPLOMATIC CHAMBERS!" the large Lanaktallan boomed out in Unified Standard Speech. The voice was made up of multiple recordings, skipping back and forth and putting the words together. In some cases, putting separate sounds together to form the words. It was a voice made up of pieces of other being's voices.
The worker behind the desk hurriedly handed off the directions.
"POLITE STATEMENT: APPRECIATION OF ATTENTION TO DUTIES! POLITE DISMISSAL OF CONVERSATION AND PRESENCE!" the Lanaktallan stated, clopping away. The other four stayed in diamonds formation around the larger one.
Dreams switched bladearms so she didn't nibble the point down too far. Mister Rings moved quickly to the ceramic house Dreams wore on her abdomen just for this occasion.
"That speech makes my blood run cold," Speaks admitted.
"It's supposed to unnerve you," the Mosizlak said.
"They don't want anyone to know what their actual voices sound like, as well as their phonetic usages and other hints that their own speech might give away," Speaks said. He shook his head. "Paranoia taken to eleven."
"Don't blame 'em," the Mosizlak snorted.
Speaks didn't say anything, just watched the newly hung doors of the Council Chamber.
The doors swung open and the five artificial Lanaktallan moved over to the stage, slowly moving up the steps. They moved jerkily, disconnected, quick motions, like jerky epileptic puppets, a vaguely eerie way of moving that made the tiny hairs on Dreams's arms stand up.
The lead one moved up to the podium and stood for a long moment.
Its eyes burned red as it looked over the gathered beings in the Council Assembly Chamber.
"BELLIGERENT STATEMENT: DOMINANT SPECIES OF GALACTIC LOCAL AREA ENGAGED IN XENOCIDAL ACTS WITHOUT DECLARATION OF BELLIGERENT STATUS!" the artificial Lanaktallan stated, it's jaw moving up and down out of synch with the words.
"ADVERSARIAL STATEMENT: DOMINANT SPECIES OF GALACTIC LOCAL AREA IS TECHNOLOGICALLY AND MILITARILY OUTCLASSED AND IS SLATED FOR XENOCIDE PURSUANT MILITARY ACTIONS!" the speaker said, its eyes glowing red.
"DECLARATIVE STATEMENT: UNVERIFIED DIPLOMATIC INTELLIGENCE STATES DOMINANT SPECIES IS NOW SURRENDERED TO CONFEDERACY OF ALIGNED SYSTEMS MILITARY FORCES!"
There was total silence. Even the most belligerent and arrogant of the Lanaktallan could only stare in horror at the macabre animated mannequin standing before them. Everything about it was disconcerting. The visible mechanical and electronic parts that were smooth and ergonomic but obviously fairly primitive in the level of techology. The jerky movement. The disjointed speech made up of almost random voices speaking words and syllables with the wrong inflections and tones.
"BELLIGERENT QUERY: STATUS OF LOCAL DOMINANT SPECIES GOVERNMENT AND EXECUTIVE BODIES?" the Lanaktallan asked.
Dreams pressed her button.
"STATUS ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: CONFEDERATE DIPLOMATIC SERVICES REPRESENTATIVE DREAMS OF SOMETHING MORE (SPECIES: MANTID / SUBSPECIES: GOLD) HAS FLOOR PERMISSIONS."
Dreams stood up after adjusting her hat. "The Unified Civilized Council surrendered unconditionally to the Terran Confederacy of Aligned Systems nearly a year ago."
She sat back down.
"BELLIGERENT QUERY: ACTIONS TAKEN FOR PUNITIVE ACTIONS AGAINST AUTHORIZING BEINGS AND BODIES?"
Speaks pressed the button, waited to be recognized, and stood up. "Criminal proceedings are taking somewhat longer, as both Confederate and local laws must be adhered to."
One of the Lanaktallan stood up. "What gives you the right to barge in here and demand anything of us?" he yelled.
The artificial Lanaktallan faced the one that yelled.
"BELLIGERENT ANTAGONIST STATEMENT OF REPLY: FUCK AROUND. FIND OUT."