Southern Economic and Cultural Union (FT; Semi-open)

[Amazonian Beasts]

Malgus. The name slipped off the tongue like a disease...like a cancer of the flesh, yet this man was no cancer. He was a Sith, to be true to his name, but the Sith of the Republic - such opposite terms, yet cohabitating - were a breed that had learned a new meaning of the word power. The term "Sith" reflected a ruthlessness that ultimately devolved into a mindless power struggle, highlighting the inherent weakness of a faction that lived for nothing but the accumulation of power. That goal, however, was a subjective one - and Malgus and his cohorts had found power in its other methods - and with these actions that hardliners of the order would declare as passive, they had spread elements of culture, prosperity and peace...will solidifying the ruling class of the Republic.

Jaden Malgus himself was an older member of the Amazonian order. Being a keen military mind, he had left politics to his cohorts as he had lead fleets and armies, serving with distinction in the recent civil war against the reincarnated Freedon Nadd's forces, all the way to the climactic battle over Styx's broken cliffs. The fighting had earned him a long scar from the left side of his mouth all the way to the ear lobe, ripping off a huge chunk of flesh in the process against one of Nadd's beserker units. It had given Malgus a rather distinctive appearance - but he was not a man to obsess over physical appearance. Malgus's mind was a sharp one in nearly every field it came across, and no simple deformity would cause him undue grief.

Standing at a full 6'9" with a pale palor of skin stretching from foot to bald head, Malgus's pale-white eyes blended in perfectly with the aura of declining life that reflected outwards. Though the man wasn't even close to being into the second half of a standard human life, stress, campaigns, and numerous other conditions had left Malgus's physical image as imposing, in a near-death sort of way. While image had power, the Sith Lord had of recently come to enjoy the stimulus provided by the mind and soul - losing himself to more refined elements, even the art of violence, in down time between the grittier realities of running a galactic society. His personal preferences had landed him here - in Dersconi space to come see out the realities of an idea.

"How fitting," Malgus remarked on the interior decor as he sat to himself. "Serene. Sterile, but tranquil. I presume they do not want violence..."

The man's silver vest complemented a pair of black formal pants that adorned the long legs of the tall human, drifting over his feet - clad in only a pair of light grey sandals. He was not in fighting attire with no weapons even close to him - a mere private transport had brought him here to further that end - but Malgus figured fighting was out of the question, regardless of how some civilizations had tendencies of exploding conferences in violence.

At least he wasn't expecting this one to.

[The WIck]

Edward Liu stood up from the bench where he had been pondering his situation, and he bent his back stretching it out. He drew up to his full height of nearly seven feet with a yawn. He like all his kind was considered very tall for a human and seemingly almost as thick, one of the few advantages of his race's genes were height and strength. Some of the disadvantages depended upon whether one like hair, because they had none, anywhere. Along his head were several stripes in varying lengths and thickness of a dark green translucent color, each Wickian's head stripping was unique to the man. His pupils were red in color, which enabled an almost cat like vision in the dark, but also made him sensitive to bright lights.

He began to walk about the gardens hoping to get about business of the conference or perhaps to conduct some networking. It never hurt to meet new people and make new friends in a place such as this. So it was the Wickian found himself in front of the delegation sent from the Russian Empire.

"Good day gentlemen" Edward offered them in greeting, "I am afraid sirs that you have me at a disadvantage. I am Duke Edward Liu representing the Restored Commonwealth of the WIck, and to whom do I have the honor of greeting?"

[Kilrany]

While she was ultimately the cause, it was still difficult for Marakova to not at least be somewhat surprised to have found herself in a conversation over music with a fourteen year old princess from another race at a diplomatic conference held by the Dersonii. It did however, present her the perceived opportunity to use her magnanimous mood to potentially perplex any of their hosts still listening in, be it Shavar himself, or a subordinate.

Allowing her smile to grow warmer, Marakova nodded her head in agreement with the child, "It would be hard for me to pick any one type as my favourite, they all have this tendency to have pieces I can enjoy, though I suppose I often lean more toward certain folk songs and marching tunes; the second lending itself well at times to improvisation."

Cocking her head ever so slightly to the side as a curious look played upon her face, Marakova then added, "I'm not familiar with the name Rastuck."

[OMGeverynameistaken]

Erzhanov blinked several times, taking in the being before him, before he looked to one of the businessmen beside him and nodded. The man spoke, "My apologies, Captain Erzhanov is fluent in many languages, but has never managed to master any of the Galactic tongues. I am Gregori Mikhailovich Obukhov, of Obukhov Factory. My associates are, representing their own various firms, Monsieur Faberge, of the House of Faberge, Mr. Petrov of the Omz Transport Factory, Mr. Zypen of Russo-Balt, and Mr. Hughes of the Russian-Galactic Company, and of course the good Captain Erzhanov of the Imperial Shipyard at Mars, who is also here in the name of Tsar Nicholas. The remainder of our company seem to have been distracted by various...items." Obukhov smiled, and bowed, as did the others, save for the Captain who, as a duke himself, felt no particular need to bow, "We are, of course, pleased to make your acquaintance, your excellency. I apologize if that is the incorrect manner of address."

[Thrashia]

Tag for upcoming post.

[Lariza]

Ashe was a bit confused by Marakova's question, if only because in all her days she had never known anyone that did not know of them. How can she not know the great ones? She asked herself. However it quickly dawned on her that not many foreigners would know of the tribe that predated the Larizans. In fact, not many know of Larizan history in general, least of all the Larizan people themselves who had lost much in the dark days. "They were an old people that came before us." She said before going on," We often sang their songs in our temples on worship day. But you can't really sing them by yourself because they were meant to be sung with groups of people."

Looking into Marakova's face, and their surroundings that showed the brilliance and beauty of the Dersonii, Ashe asked a question that she never had the chance to ask anyone else."Umm. Miss, can I ask you something?" Not waiting for the Kilrany's reply, she asked ahead. "What's it like being an ambassador? Because papa said that is what I'm suppose to be, but this is my first time meeting a Peregrini. Are all foreigners the same?"

[The WIck]

"Incorrect manner of address?" The Wickian asked of them, "When you get to know my people you will found out Gregori that we are pretty informal when it comes to social conventions. A Duke I may be, an entire Side of Orbitals under my authority, but none of my citizens bow to me except in formal ceremony."

Such a view of aristocracy likely contrasted with the more conservative nature of some nation-states. But the truth of the matter was that Wickian aristocracy was elected to their positions and they served in the name of their people. It was also a system that had only been active for two years now since the Break of the Concordat and the Reformation.

"I am sent to this conference by the President of the Commonwealth, Norman Armitager to secure trade rights with new nations. Our nation is coming out of a long and bloody conflict and has suffered most of the expected consequences of a protracted war. What we desire is new contacts who have a need for raw and refined ore and gasses. You see our nation is rich in raw materials and has quite a surplus of them, but we need capital to sure up our deficit.

The Duke continued if the Russian were interested.

"There are also other opportunities to be had if your commercial interests which to invest in our nation, perhaps establish your own mining complexes? But we are in need of other investment as well mainly to do with the development of critical infrastructure in several of our orbital habitats and colonial worlds as well.

[Techno-Soviet]

The Soviet delegation, consisting mostly of corporate officers and the occasional military-like bodyguard for some of the more important or influential members of the group. The delegates arrived a few minutes earlier, consisting of about twenty-five, not including the six or so bodyguards who had mostly remained in the courtyard, while the most important members of the group made their way to the Great Hall. The remaining members, about eighteen and their guards, mingled amongst themselves and the other nationals in the Central Courtyard.

While the extravagant decor and baroque styling of the Great Hall and the near magical courtyard had not gone unnoticed, the most that would be acknowledged was a curt nod and perhaps a comment about a particular facet of the item in question. Corporate culture in the Technocracy usually stressed efficiency over luxury, so the rather conspicuous over-styling of the hall seemed to be a waste of resources at best; and overly tacky to make up for some perceived shortcoming, at worst. Still, it was a better reception than most had received (which often was verbal distaste or displeasure), although this was probably due to the pheromones from the courtyard still buzzing around in their heads.

[Kilrany]

Nodding her head slightly in understanding as Ashe briefly elaborated on the Rastuck, Marakova stopped short of asking a follow up question when the young princess asked her own, twice. Her curiousity peaked at first as to what the child might want to know, it turned quickly to amusement, which she let show upon her face shortly before a light chuckle.

Letting a little grin form upon her face, Marakova attempted to reply, “I’m not sure if I’m the best person for you to ask that, this is technically my first diplomatic function after all, but I’ve been as close to a politician as one can get in Kilrany for a very long time, and though my opinion may be clouded with some cynicism, it seems to be that they’re practically one and the same.”

Her expression then took on a sly note as she continued, “You get all the responsibility of putting on fronts for people, trying to make friends with those you might otherwise despise, all the while trying to advance the position of your own nation with none of the power to decide its course for yourself, and more then your fair share of blame should you fail.”

Pausing for a moment, her expression again changed, this time to something more compassionate as she added, “Do take that with a significant grain of salt though little one, time has left me rather jaded in this regard. Looking at most of the Dersconii here, I say for them it’s more of an enjoyable game, so in all fairness, it depends on your outlook.”

[OMGeverynameistaken]

"Ah." Obukhov shrugged, "I am afraid we are rather sticklers for such things, at least in Russia. It is something of a point of national pride, you might say. However, we must adapt the the cultures of our clients, Mr. Liu." He spoke to Erzhanov, who grumbled something in return, "I believe several of our heavy industrial companies have been looking to expand their off-world interests, and the Outer Systems Imperial Gas Mining Company would indeed be most interested in opportunities to get away from the somewhat controversial Jupiter and Saturn investments they've made. I, of course, speak only of what I know, but, in my specific case Obukhov Factory specializes in the production of small arms for light infantry, assault rifles and such, as well as man-portal anti-tank and -aircraft weapons."

"If your nation happens to require those, we would be pleased to conduct business there on a contract basis."

[Thrashia]

Two figures stepped down the faraway to enter the meeting area where various delegates were speaking together in groups or coupled in corners. The opulence of the palace around them and the rooms that had been set aside for such an august guest as the lead figure was almost too much in the way of baroque grandeur. For a man who had seen the dark majesty of Coruscant to the gothic abyss of the Chronosian homeworld, this was a different kind of mystique and sumptuousness. The various architectural aspects were intriguing and he had eyed several paintings and statues on his pathway to the meeting hall with interest.

"My lord, are you sure of this?" the second man asked, leaning forward slightly from behind. He was just as tall as his master, but far more broad and obviously muscled. The fitted red clothes he wore were simultaneously ceremonial and functional. Such was the dress of an Imperial Knight when forced to forgo his usual cortosis armour. His lightsaber hung from his hip however, a sash keeping it in place. To part a Knight from his lightsaber would have been as easy as parting a rancor from a newly found meal; the rancor would be preferable. "Your presence in this galaxy has thus far been a secret."

"You will realize at some point Master Draco, that politics is as much a game of what you see as what you do not," replied the man in front of him in a modulated voice. He wore black knee high boots and a rather austere white uniform that was almost shocking in its plainness when surrounded by so much that was not. The red and blue rank piece on his chest denoted the highest rank a man could reach within the Thrashian Military. The gold epaulettes on his shoulders displayed his status as a warlord of the empire, a thing not easily achieved. And his blue skin and piercing, molten-red eyes showed his very alien nature.

Grand Admiral Thrawn turned his head slightly to give Grand Master Draco a look. "And besides, I've already completed the inspection tour. Admiral Parck has done and is continuing to do an excellent job. This variance in our plans was simple luck and an opportunity that I will not have passed up."

The pair of them walked up to the rather harassed-looking Palace Chamberlain. Draco, looking as if he had just bitten a chunk of sour lime, gruffly said to the man, "The Regent of Thrashia, Grand Admiral Thrawn, has arrived."

[Lariza]

Ashe's head tilted from side to side as Marakova told her the innerworkings of a foriegn dignitary and their burden. It might not have been the answer a young child would want, but it was a lot more truthful than what the Princess had known before. In fact, it was the truth of such a task that was hers.

"I see, Miss..." Ashe still pondered the lesson on life that had just been bequeathed to her. Her eyes did not quite meet the Kilrany's as her thoughts raced from one answer to the next. Is this what I am to be? She thought. Am I to be a servant to father, and nothing more but a source for blame when someone fails?Or maybe, maybe I can... "..That is what I'll be." She said as her head rose to meet the Kilrany's. "Thank you Miss, but I have to go find Jazz." Making a slight bow, the young princess ran off before Marakova could do anything more.

[Allanea]

It was then that President Kazansky entered the courtyard. Smiling cheerfully, he spoke.

“Oh, good day, my friends. I must apologize. I have been held up. Matters of the most important kind – actually, just a hold-up at the dock. Purely my fault if anything. I hope I did not miss some truly important discussion?”

[Storm Gard]

The diplomatic delegation from the Aeon Union consisted of Ambassador Terwny, Junior Ambassador Retifiel vor Taerlim, several Pyran bodyguards, and perhaps most importantly five of the ten Overseers in overall command of Union Milky Way operations. They arrived in the courtyard scant minutes after the shuttle landed, and then the three of the Overseers along with the Junior Ambassador broke away and began to mingle among the various political elites present.

While the delegation was impressed with the flamboyant opulence of the Dersconi architecture and the grandiose scale of the decorations, they did not show it. After all, with the exception of the bodyguards and the Junior Ambassador, the delegation were all Aerons, whom were born and raised in the magnificent crystal cities of the Aeron core worlds.

“It’s rather lively for a diplomatic conference don’t you think Ambassador?” A gentle, lilting female voice, cut through the sounds of conversation and polite laughter resounding through the air.

The Ambassador turned around and smiled.

“Ah…I thought you were having fun ma’am?” Terwny asked coyly. The woman standing before him placed a hand on her hip and the other waved casually around her.

“Got bored, and asked Eretan to take over, he loves these types of gatherings, besides he thrives on that, act nice while you stab a guy in the back, crap.” She replied, sarcasm and distaste dripping from her tone.

Dian’nan was the Chief Financial Overseer of Union Milky Way operations. This meant that every cent spent on maintaining and expanding Union interests within the region went before her for review and approval. As such, it was imminently important for her to be present at the conference, if only to maintain a public façade. However, as a former Cabalist she was used to the adrenaline pumping action of pitched combat, often found such meetings insufferably boring, and would not be present. Although, if there was one thing she learned from her training, it was that personal comforts mattered little in service of the Union.

Terwny never got the full extent of her history, frankly, he enjoyed the air of mystery that surrounded Dian’nan and did not feel like probing too hard. All he knew about her life before joining the financial circles was that she had been a Cabalist Shadow Agent fighting against forces that wished the destruction of the Union deep in the Femelkian sectors. How she could have given up doing that was beyond him. Yet here she was.

Beautiful and dangerous like a warrior priestess he had once seen long ago at a military parade celebrating some long forgotten victory she moved her sinewy body with a sublime grace that promised violence at any moment. Her flaming red hair was kept short, almost a military crew cut and one of her striking blue eyes was lost on some long ago adventure replaced with a black eye patch proudly displaying her former division’s insignia framed by thunderbolts.

He tried not to stare too intently. It would be unseemly of him.

Before he was able to speak however, she was already making her way across the courtyard towards another diplomat.

“Ah well.” Terwyn whispered to no one in particular and returned to his wine.

[Cyber Utopia]

Dave XIII, unlike many of his predecessors in the Network's Diplomat Series of androids, arrived rather normally. Whereas Daves before him had often arrived at diplomatic events in a less than elegant manner, such as crashing cars through gardens, and piloting ridiculously oversized and questionably shaped starships, XIII was barely even noticeable. He trotted quite peacefully along the beautiful halls of the Dersconii palace, and would no doubt be admiring the astounding architecture around him if it were not for the fact that he lacked the programming to appreciate it.

As it was, his programming merely required him to nod politely at any sapient organisms he passed until he found a god-like thing. He had not been having much luck with finding a god-like thing, as he wasn't sure how god-like a god-like thing would be. As such, he put that particular directive on hold and decided to go and nod at some people. When he arrived in the courtyard however, he regretted it. So many sapient organisms to nod at meant his head started shooting up and down like a jackhammer. Dave really wished Networkers would be more specific with their programming.

It was rather lucky that he had not been designed with more complex human emotions such as embarrasment, and that he had not been given artificial sweat glands, as the amount of liquid that would be currently be pouring from him in such a case would truly be unpleasant. What Dave's programming did allow him to do, fortunately, was to disengage from any directives if he felt they were providing a negative image to other diplomats. The android's understanding of behaviour led him to believe that anybody who saw his head nodding furiously would immediately be negatively disposed towards him, and so he stopped. Sensible robot.

Having cancelled both parts of his initial directive, Dave was now at a loss as to what he should do. So, he once again commenced with trying to spot a Dersconii among the mingling ambassadors...

[Kilrany]

Passively watching the young Larizan princess take her leave, Marakova didn't particularly feel any regret at being so blunt with the child. By her reckoning Ashe was old enough that the reality of her future role should have already been explained to her, but then the Kilrany were something of a no-nonsense people most of the time, and not exactly ones to soften the blow for anyone, least of all themselves.

With their conversation clearly over, Marakova turned to continue along the path once again, moving casually with her hands held loosely behind her back. Once more she started to hum a quiet, but pleasant little tune, somewhat different then the last, but similar, aiming slightly for the grand hall's entrance.

-----

Long separated from Marakova, Novikov was still intent on putting the time he had before the Dersconii started to good use, but recognized no one among the gathered dignitaries that he felt he could approach. The only exception to this was the blue skinned Grand Admiral, but in this case he knew of him by name only through Marakova, who in turn had only seen him at a previous event.

Tempted for a moment to approach Thrawn and strike up a conversation, Novikov made no attempt to hide his observation of the pair for several seconds before he opted to merely move on along the path, feeling in the end he knew too little of the man. It didn't particularly help that he was far less assertive when compared to Marakova.

[Derscon]

I think we can kick this party off. For those of you who want to attend and meet the attendance requirements, don't fret! Just pretend you arrived earlier and are in the meeting hall when stuff starts.

There will be time for side-conversations and deals later, so don't fret if I cut you off.

Also, sorry for the somewhat shittiness of the post. I can't seem to be inspired to write, but I needed to get this thing moving.

The Palace Chamberlain glanced over at the lime-sucking fellow with rather sarcastic disinterest. "Well, that's good for him then. If you'll excuse me..." the Chamberlain quickly made his way off to his duties, wondering why anyone bothered to tell him that they've arrived when everyone was out in the Courtyard playing their diplomatic games. Oh well.

Garamondov, how are things?

Annoying and crowded.

Good. I believe we're ready to begin; please inform our guests that we will begin and have them escorted to the Hall.

Without responding, the Chamberlain made an about face, walking briskly back to the Grand Hall and running once again into the Thrashian delegation. "Grand Admiral," he said, bowing, and now entirely polite as if the previous dismissal never happened. "If you would, sir, we are ready to begin. You may make your way to the amphitheater." A servant and escort appeared behind them, bowing, and prepared to escort them to where Tarakh and Malgus awaited.

Outside in the courtyard, the bell-towers sounded attention as the Palace Chamberlain appeared on the grand balcony, speaking to all of the attendees. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we will be beginning the conference soon. The courtiers and guards around will escort you to the amphitheater." He bowed, and quickly turned back inside the palace as dress uniformed Praesillei Dei and other servants and courtiers appeared alongside the Amaranthine diplomats already there and brought the diplomats through the Grand Hall and into the enormous amphitheater.

*****

Let's hope this event goes well. Tarakh sat at the front with the Sith as the delegates were formally escorted into the amphitheater. Where they sat, flags of their nations or organizations commanded attention. The chamber was shaped to create an acoustic effect allowing anyone to hear anyone else at any position in the hall with utmost clarity, preventing the need for microphones, as well as forbidding private vocal conversations. However, if one looked closely, one could sometimes detect the use of some magical force in the room as to suppress echo and reverb, enhancing the quality of the sound.

Once everyone settled in, the central doors were thrown open and the Palace Chamberlain, escorted by two Ekhaecan, approached the floor. In a boisterous yet noble voice, his words beckoned the true start of the conference. "Blessing this Hall, His Most Divine and Imperial Majesty Alexei Andropov, Mahatzar of the Amaranthine Imperium!"

Immediately after the call, eight Ekhaecan marched with glorious precision, their pole-arms dressed in banners and flags, even their armor decorated to imperial levels. Spreading out and marching up to the stage, their perfect synchronous separation exposed the host of the conference dressed in the most formal regalia the Imperium had to offer. Standing in front of the throne at the top of the stage, Alexei's presence seemed to literally brighten up the room. His avatar barely transparent, emitted an aura from his person, through the gold and mythril robes, one could only describe as divine.

The Mahatzar held out his hands in a welcoming gesture, addressing all present with a powerful, yet grandfatherly, voice that touched both the ears, but also the mind itself. "WE thank you all for your answering Our summons.

"It is with great pain and sadness We look upon this galaxy, once a beacon of peace and civilization in Our oldest times, despite its role as a home of primitive societies. Now, races spitefully or ignorantly declaring themselves beacons of stability and masters of civilization bathe in the blood spilled by their own hands and tools of devastation. Barbarians and hypocrites dirty the rocks with their filth, and poison the stars with their presence. Claiming order, or simply out of blood-lust, this galaxy suffocates in a shadow of death without rebirth, blood flowing not into the veins of the new, but tossed into empty space without thought or concern to the continued existence of Life as a whole.

"However, We note that this force of death is found only in some parts of this galaxy. The Amaranthine Imperium has found noble and precious friends and allies numerous in this sector of the galaxy most call the 'South.' Even those whom we do not count amongst friends, we do not count amongst enemies, and despite the occasional war, our neighborhood is blessed primarily with the stability and prosperity of peace. It is on this foundation in which this conference hopes to build a further relationship between Southern nations, strengthening this prosperity with more prosperity, and acting as a bulwark against the forces of destruction.

"So thank you again, delegates and friends, for choosing to hear the words of Civilization and balk at the vile hymns of barbarity." The Mahatzar closed his introduction and invocation with a polite nod to Lord Malgus, allowing the Sith Lord to make the formal opening address and begin the conference which would, hopefully, secure the blessings of prosperity for this sector of the Galaxy.

[Amazonian Beasts]

The crowd didn't bother Malgus – the delegates, assemblymen, whoever they were, they were people. Yes, people...just as he was, denizens of this giant galactic community that had spawned so many different ideologies that it was hard to keep track of day-to-day events from an individual's limited perspective. No matter; he was here to deliver the key note speech upon this conference, and was more than prepared to lay down the harsh truths of the galaxy as it was. Not a place for nice gestures and thoughts, but a violent, dark, and dirty place. Well, it was time to change that.

“Thank you,” Malgus indicated, moving forward to speak with his eyes already making and breaking contact over the people he stood before. “I don't need to introduce myself, because like all of you, today I am a person of the galaxy. Let names of civilizations step aside, let our personal titles and realms stand silent before the community of which we all partake. No matter our differences, no matter our thoughts and means and ways – we are all bound by the unifying plane that is this galaxy, this shroud of light that encompasses far too many souls for any one of us to understand in a lifetime.”

“What a disaster, what a calamity,” the Sith Lord steamrolled on into the meat of his introduction. “That we are poised before a precipice of genocide. We are a galactic community steeped in a history of violence, and yet our history teaches us nothing – no matter what esteemed thoughts we may treat ourselves to, the true facts are undeniable: rogue regimes slaughter innocent souls by the millions; galaxy-spanning pathogens run rampant, uncontrolled by civilized sapient minds; and souls of pure darkness rape entire populations, twisting them to meet cruel desires or perverted games.”

“You may question my appearance in criticizing the uncivilized of the galaxy,” Malgus rolled on, indicating his traditional Sith garb and pale, vein-lined cranium. “But you cannot question my motives. You all may not see this as the most immediate pressing problem, but by continuing to delay action in promoting civilization in this galaxy, where do we – the humanists of this community, the theologians, the philosophers, the artists, the sculptors of beauty – when do we decide that the pavement lined with corpses is no longer acceptable? When do we decide that this galactic society can no longer follow the misguided perceptions of wanton devastation, as seen in the Delta Quadrant of this galaxy in recent times? Yes, I indict you, Delta denizens, in continuing this road to hell – and it is here, members of the so-called 'Southern' community, that I implore we come together to recognize our civilized nature once more.”

“I know that we can not delay longer,” Malgus moved into his intended strong points. “That now is the time to recognize what we have as sentient minds and bodies. It is now, fellow Southern citizens, that I call for unity – not through violence or a pact of iron, but one of color and intellect. Let us build a nexus of cultural renaissance, to unite this 'Southern' hemisphere of the galactic community forth in art, commerce, athletics, and discourse! Embrace our higher-learned talents and throw off the barbarian antics that come forth in a chaotic howl from the abyss! I call upon all of those assembled here to question their self-centered acts of power and military doctrine to expand into the right-brain ideals that push every species into higher learning and enlightenment.”

“Thus,” the Sith wound down into conclusion. “I move to establish this network of trade and artistic share – a safe-zone, so to speak, encompassing the powerful societies of the galactic South. Let us no longer hide our artistic and commercial talents in fear of military aggression – we rather instead come together to create great monuments, museums, trade centers, and games events to participate in the sharing of knowledge in peaceful exchange. For those of you who question your own power-addled egos – from where do you find your power? From the ability to conquer lesser races – or to reach a greater state of being, to find your center?”

“I open this conference in an air of peace, but also of strength. Let us shed our cultural bonds and fears of economic freedom and open this galactic hemisphere for the learned minds of the galaxy. Let them come – and we will offer a social citadel in the hands of enlightened unity yet seen on such a scale. It is my conviction that we esteemed few here will make the right decision for the sake of our galactic community's progress – our evolution as a city, lonely in this universe of blackened souls. Perhaps we can be a beacon for those searching for light. Thank you, esteemed delegates.”

Malgus nodded his head slightly to acknowledge his conclusion to the opening act – allowing his words to lead the others to where they wanted to go. The speech wasn't particularly long – but length had no meaning. It was intent and power of oratory that truly counted in this day and age of quick thinking and sound bytes. After all, he could sway judgment, but he could force none to act if they decided against it.

[Red Talons]

Isahil made his way into the conference hall. The Hybrid had come alone, wearing the robes of the Telepath Caste, he looked like something out of an old earth movie. Black sheathed katana hanging on his right hip. His black and red Yukata and Hakama flowing with his gait. Four purple claw marks on his left breast showing his rank as leader of the Telepath Caste. He moved to his seat with an eerie silence, his wooden sandals making absolutely no noise on the floor as he swiftly walked. He took his seat just as the Sith lord began to speak.

Isahil was slightly intrigued at first, the man's appearance definitely didn't speak of a kind and caring individual. But his words were indeed heartfelt. Though, as the man spoke, Isahil found something of note. After the man finished, he himself stood.

"I have a question... You speak of unifying the galaxy, bringing the many sapient species together for peace, but in the same breath you note that only southern powers will participate in such a venture. I fear that such a proposal of unifying peace, if only offered to southern nations and peoples, will go the same way as the former northern republic. I dread to see such a hope for peace divide the galaxy, only to cause more tension and strife." He paused a moment, collecting his thoughts a bit. "We need to have a goal of not just unifying the southern peoples, but all peoples of the Galaxy. Peace and unification built through exclusion cannot prosper, as the fall of IRON bore testament." He paused once again before continuing.

"I agree with the points already noted, that if we do not act together to shine the light of civilization, that this galaxy will descend into darkness. We need to work together, to look past our differences to see what we have in common. But this ideal cannot be exclusive, if we try to build a cultural mecca for the galaxy. Then the galaxy as a whole must be able to contribute. If a people is excluded from such a thing, it will only foster feelings of resentment and hate for what we are creating here today."

He sat back down, satisfied that he had spoken his piece, and sincerely hoped that he could steer the conference away from becoming a clone of the former IRON fiasco.

[Derscon]

Prince Tarakh, from the front of the room, stood and addressed the Talonian delegates. While Mahatzar Alexei hosted the conference, it was Tarakh representing the Imperium's interests and participating. "The Amaranthine Imperium could not agree more. Having a strict arbitrary divide amongst northern and southern civilizations is not beneficial, nor within the lines of our goals here. It is with this in mind that we would like to point out that the Imperium has invited a few northern powers to participate as observers.

"However, in our private discussions with the Republic," he said, motioning towards the Sith Lord aside from him. "It was concluded that a singular effort to unite the galaxy in such a way is practically impossible. It is too large an undertaking for one move, and the war and conflict plaguing the galaxy is primarily situated in the Delta quadrant, with a strong presence in Gamma. This is not a matter of silly galactigraphical prejudice, this is simply a statement of fact. As such, a good starting move, a move to build a strong base, would be to focus primarily on the southern half of the Milky Way, where conflict is less than what is found in the North." The Grand Prince looked as if he were done and about to sit down, but Tarakh decided there was need for one more correction.

"And finally, as to your concerns about this becoming a southern IRON... The Amaranthine Imperium was allied to over half of IRON members through the ESUS while still being a member of the Hermes Alliance. Quite simply, no civilization was in a better position to understand the situation than us. IRON's failure was due to its formation as a military alliance based on a projection of false fear. It was not a 'positive' alliance; it was a reactionary event only. While Lord Malgus and We speak of the concerns of Northern aggression, it is merely to juxtapose such a situation with our own, one of peace and prosperity. Our primary focus is one of prosperity through peace and trade, rather than a false strength through isolation and aggression."

[Morningstar Coalition]

The delegation from the Morningstar Coalition had kept to themselves in the bustle before the conference had officially begun. Two Admirals and three Commodores, the five of them now sat in the seats provided by their hosts, and refrained from speaking once they discovered the unique acoustic properties of the amphitheater.

The speeches by the Dersconi Mahatzar and the Sith Lord were anticipated. Supreme Admiral Turehk had already guessed at the purpose of this conference, and his assumptions had been correct this time. Ever since meeting with the leader of the Dersconi nation, Turehk had been able to guess that a large portion of their society had a desire to be seen as the cultural and intellectual center of the galaxy. This conference, if successful, would go a long way towards cementing the Dersconi's name as the most "civilized" nation in the Milky Way.

Personally Turehk did not have very high hopes for the outcome of these talks. Since the Coalition's founding Turehk had seen nothing but self interest, enlightened or otherwise, from the nations of this galaxy. Most here would want to know what benefit joining this movement of "civilization" would bring to their nations, their people, or their persons. In point of fact, that was one issue on Turehk's own mind. How would this movement benefit the peoples of the Coalition? It was this very question which had prompted Turehk to attend personally; that, and a desire to speak with the enigmatic monarch of the Dersconi.

The second member of the Morningstar delegation was the Admiral of Foreign Relations, Enaara Rafal Ur Sidduth. During the two speeches, and the questioning of the Talonian delegate, Enaara had kept her peace; all the while considering how each viewpoint might affect relations with the Coalition. So far the Talonians had proven to be worthwhile allies, as had the Dersconi; even if those relations weren't formalized by any treaty. Enaara hoped to eventually correct what she considered an oversight. Her people found satisfaction in clearly defined order in the universe, as well as clearly defined relationships with those around them. It was part of what made the Reikoan species so apt at diplomacy.

The other three members of the delegation were Commodores, which made them the second's in command of their respective divisions, namely the Intelligence, Commerce, and Research Divisions. Admiral Turehk had deemed it foolish to allow five of the leading members of the Admiralty to all leave the Fleets at once, and had ordered that the other three Admirals who had expressed interest to send their juniors in their stead. This way if anything happened, the Coalition would not be left without half their leadership.

When the Talonian and Dersconi were finished speaking, Turehk consulted with Enaara via neural rig before standing to address the assembly, "Fellow Delegates, I am Turehk, of the Morningstar Coalition's Admiralty. I too have questions about this movement for civilization, however my questions are more pragmatic I believe. I am curious how the Dersconi intend to spread this movement's ideals and implement it's goals. How do you propose to bring the lawless of the galaxy into the "light" of civilization? And finally, how will we who join you be obligated?"

[Derscon]

Tarakh dismissed Turehk's concerns with a wave of his hand. "Supreme Admiral, I believe you misunderstand our intentions. It is not our goal nor our responsibility to save the wretched from a destruction they have wrought for themselves. There are places in the galaxy in which no light can reach, and no disinfectant can rid the stench. This organization is not to be concerned with such areas. Our only concern is the proliferation of wealth and culture within areas already secure and civilized, and potentially winning over areas not yet consumed by the darkness. This is not a military alliance, although we welcome cooperation amongst its members in such a fashion if it promotes its goals in the end.

"Ultimately, there is no formal obligation. However, we have our moral obligations to friends that we create for ourselves not out of an external mandate, but from an internally created desire to work for our allies, do we not? The success of a partner is also the success of oneself; cooperation will always benefit personally in the long run far more than violent competition. This is a basic and fundamental axiom of rational interaction, albeit not always manifested in rational species without the longevity of some other races." Tarakh shrugged.

"I guess to sum up that somewhat disconjoined rambling, we do not seek to evangelize, merely secure, and there is no formal obligation of any form, although it should be understood by rational entities that cooperation of this nature is in each of our self-interests." Tarakh hoped that would be enough. From what his father had told him about the Supreme Admiral, the man was reasonable and easy to get along with. The Grand Prince often forgot, though, that other nominally reasonable people lost their sense of rationality when wrapped up in the nature of politics, and that fundamental truths even the youngest of the Amaranthine understand are beyond conception to the wisest of others.

[Hyperspatial Travel]

The delegate from the Realm, Marrish Har spoke.

"This seems a reasonable proposal. Talyth is much closer to what one might consider 'uncivilized' systems than the majority of powers in the south. If we are to join such a union for our self-interest, it will help ensure the security of our region. On that basis alone, we would consider joining such a union."

[Democratic Colonies]

Foreign Secretary Jaeger, perfectly silent thus far, watched Prince Tarakh carefully and waited until the Dersconi finished speaking before he raised his own voice - it would not be polite to interrupt the gracious hosts, after all.

"I for one applaud the noble intentions of the Dersconi and the Republic in bringing us together today, not only as a representative of my people, but as a citizen of the galactic south," he began. As with all DC diplomats since the Dersconi had 'uplifted' the Democratic Colonies with their advanced technologies, Jaeger took care to appropriately flatter the Dersconi.

"I don't think there is a man or woman here today who can be against the sentiments being expressed today," he said as he looked around, trying to maximize eye contact with as many people as possible.

"Who among us, after all, would argue for greater isolation and xenophobia, for less of the friendship and understanding that permits us all to grow? I don't believe any of us would ever be so short sighted and unreasonable."

Jaeger's gaze seemed to linger on Prince Tarakh for a moment, as if seeking approval to continue, before his eyes flicked over to Enaara Rafal Ur Sidduth.

"We come from many different nations in the south, from many different cultures, but I do not believe that we are so different that we cannot come to understand, to cooperate, to grow with one another. I however," he gestured at himself modestly in spite of his rather expensive looking suit, "am an aging man, a man who's youth has already escaped his grasp. To build long term peace and understanding in the south, to ensure that what we've discussed today about the grand union of civilizations not only lasts beyond our time but grows stronger as the years go on, we must ensure that the youth understand the importance of their neighbors and the interstellar community that surrounds them. Thus, I propose, and I hope I'm not getting too far ahead of myself here, that the nations gathered here today not only consider what can be done to increase cultural understanding and general exchange, but seek to establish, here and today, a formal student exchange system that will allow our best and brightest to learn about and from eachother - not only for the sake of their studies, but for the sake of their peoples."

[Kilrany]

Ushered into the large amphitheater along with all the others representatives when the time came, the Kilrany duo had taken quickly to their assigned seating and seemingly settled in quite comfortably. Here they remained silent even to each other, content it seemed to merely listen to their host, and let others ask the necessary questions for the moment.

For the most part their gaze shifted from one speaker to the next, looking on with somewhat passive expressions, mixed slightly between mild curiousity and indifference for the benefit of anyone who was bothering to observe them over those who were actually speaking. Slowly this naturally began to change somewhere along the line, first somewhat subtly with Novikov, who allowed a look of mild concern to mix with a small frown upon his face. As if this wasn't enough of a warning, while Tarakh addressed the Coalition Admiral, Marakova began to smile. It wasn't a large smile baring any teeth, just a small self-assured one, with the corners of her mouth twisting upwards just enough to be noticeable.

Not long after this, Marakova apparently decided it was time to speak up and raised her gloved right hand slightly, not bothering to sit forward as she spoke in a low, casually deliberate volume and tone, making full use of the room's special arrangements, “If this proposed organization is not to have any actual authority, even among those who 'join,' is this not in the end but a rather glorified cultural exchange program?”