The Summit
It has been some time, yes, since the consular cruiser known as the Dawning Light and its four attendant corvettes slipped from their moorings from the orbital shipyards that surrounded the capital world of Volkos like a ring on a man’s finger, their grey and rounded shapes lit alight with a hundred lights each. Both the Dawning Light and its four escort had their weapons powered down when they left the Volkos System, entering into the cascades of hyperspace as their delightful little fleet streamed through the chasms of that other place. However, they had their shields at maximum, as though they did not truly expect an attack, it was always prudent to be ready at all times, lest the next victim of some demented pirate be the delegation intended to attend a Summit on the Primarch’s Legacy.
Three Volkoi officers and a Teresoni one sat on a semi-circle on a casual sofa, situated within a room right behind the bridge section of the Dawning Light. Two of the Volkoi were dressed with distinct military uniforms, complete with medals adorning their chests. The other Volkoi wore a white and gold robe, with a hood draped over her head.
The Teresoni also wore a robe, but this robe was black in color. Metal braces fitted on the Teresoni’s wings, and the avian’s eyes glowed with an ethereal blue. This was a psyker.
One of the Volkoi dressed in the military uniform reached out towards the table in their center, and took one of the teacups resting there. Taking a sip, he looked back towards the psyker with a look of satisfaction written on his face. “Did you make this telekinetically, Lanya?”, the mikitary man asked as he took another sip.
“Yes, Captain Heshen.”, the psyker replied with a smile. “How good is it?”
“Good. Now, Deputy Captain Nizira, if you may?”
The other one dressed with the military uniform, one with two medals on her chest, nodded. “Aye, captain. The central government has sent an additional letter to us. The Alliance government wishes for us to open up the possibility of pushing the Tagali out of the arm completely in addition to the current objectives. The privateers and pirates sponsored by the blue skinned heretics have caused far too much damage on our shipping lanes, resulting in an annual loss of trillions of rechens every year, and our fleet is stretched thin fending them off. In addition, the threat of a Tagali attack hangs over our heads, which is a greater threat as long as our nations stay disunited like this.”
“Well.”, the ambassador started. “That is expected. The massive casualties of the war are still remembered to this day. It is understandable that the government wants the greatest threat pushed out. However...”
“The other races are the problem, yes.”, Lanya completed. “They may or may not see things the way we do.”
“Some are problematic and are actually looking to expand into the territories of others.”, Heshen said in turn. “If one near the League does a dirty move towards our rich territories...”
“War. I’ve lost count of how many we have fought in the time after the Great War.”, the deputy captain spoke.
The ambassador simply shrugged. “Well, I’ll just do my best in the Summit.”
“Speaking of which, we are near the destination.”, the psyker noted.
First, there was nothing. Then, ripples in space time appeared as five energy signatures burst out of the dark space a few space knots away from the Primarch’s Legacy. The rounded features of the League starships were easily recognizable, as the rails on which the main guns of the ships were mounted were like rings on a noblewoman’s finger, their presence allowing the Volkoi vessels to strike at any given direction.
Speaking of directions, the Dawning Light engaged manoeuvring thrusters as it positioned itself to dock with the much larger alien vessel. A few moments later, they were in.
A door opened. A hiss hisses as smoke spouts of the ramp that ran down the door. Then, six figures appeared out of the mist.
The first to step out was Ambassador Touren, an accomplished envoy that has been to countless diplomatic missions to various alien states, negotiating truces, setting up trade pacts, and so much more. In this gathering of supreme importance, it was no surprise that he was chosen for this task.
Four more stepped out of the mist like ghosts from the netherworld. Marching parade style in pairs behind the ambassador, four of the diminutive Volkoi Black Guard, their black trench coats marking them as part of that elite force. Behind their distinctive clothing were suits of armor, which were essentially chain mail coats but made from zero-gap metal (for now, just think something like mithril but in space), a specially modified and hellishly expensive piece of technology that entailed molecular compression, which in essence took the molecule of steel and compressed the molecules to the point that the space between them was zero, making the Black Guard the single most formidable formation in the League, even if there only eleven hundred of them in existence.
Then the dark robed Teresoni stepped out, the psyker towering over her racial cousins like a black sheep amongst the white. Her head held high and wings embroidered with metal, she was just there exuding all the pride of the Teresoni in themselves.
Once finished in their entrance, they would then proceed.
“Representative of the Volkoi-Teresoni League, taking the seat.”