Two days ago, the fleet had arrived. Smooth, milky-white ships with no flaws to be seen, no openings or turrets that hinted at their existence as warships. They had simply hung there for the first day, not moving, almost as if they were mere illusions that would have evaporated like a mirage if they had been touched.
That was when the government of Arkenhas had sent out its first ship to investigate. Messages had been sent, of course, but President Varnholm had long since heard that the aliens, if that was what they were, had no intention of responding. So they had armed the warship Vakarian, and had sent it to investigate. At three-light seconds away, the Vakarian became so much superheated plasma. There had been no warning shot, no attempt to dissuade them. The eight hundred men on the cruiser had simply died.
It had been then the fleet had moved, those alien ovals swarming towards Arkenhas, pushing aside the planetary defenses as though they had been built for nothing. So now they waited, and Varnholm looked at his hands, unable to face the accusing eyes of those around him. The Opposition was clustered in the room with him, each of them nervously shifting about on the mahogany seats that had been brought half a galaxy to please him. Perhaps if he'd done more, spent more on defense, prepared Arkenhas for the invasion... perhaps they could've fended off the aliens. But he couldn't have known. He couldn't have. Arkenhas had only been in one war in the last decade, with the other single-planet power one system away, the Principality of Marek. The jumped-up tinpot prince there had attempted to invade, and over twenty warships from each side had been destroyed before they were able to push them back.
It was a staggering number for a small world such as Arkenhas, but now over a hundred ships sat in orbit, and it seemed as if one would have been enough to destroy their fleet, even had the fight been fair. He slumped further, waiting for the end to come.
A strange buzzing appeared in his ears, and he shook his head, trying to get it out. It intensified, and he looked around the room, strangely ready to forgive the culprit who had his phone on at such a desperate time. But the buzzing didn't seem to be coming from anywhere. He gritted his teeth, and a moment later, a figure appeared outside the door. Short, shorter than even the shortest member of his cabinet, and encased mostly in armour.
He gasped. He knew the theory behind faster-than-light travel, but the idea of using it on a person... that was impossible! Though, as he looked at the young man standing there, he knew the invaders were human. That was something.
"Is this a world on which one of you has the authority to make decisions?"
The voice was strange, heavily accented, and the Basic it spoke was harsh to the ear.
Varnholm looked down at the man, and, after a moment, replied.
"Those.. those who make decisions are gathered here. We are able to make a treaty with your people-"
"That will not be necessary."
The young man closed his eyes briefly, and more armoured warriors appeared behind him, two for every man in the room.
"I am Harshin. You will come with me."
He extended his arm. Varnholm walked up to the man, and Harshin smiled.
"Excellent. The hall in which you meet has been prepared. Kindly follow me."
The luxurious halls of the parliament seemed to be unreal, and Varnholm reached out to touch a tapestry, as though to reassure himself that this was real. It could not be real, but here he was. He looked over at his Vice-President, Akar Mailin.
"Akar..."
Akar smiled wanly.
"We're not dead, eh? That's something."
Harshin and his men ignored the talking, and kept moving at the pace they had before. After less than a minute had passed, they flung open the doors to the parliament hall.
"Kindly take your usual seats."
The men of the parliament did so, shuffling into their usual places, opposition on one side, government on the other.
Harshin looked around.
"Your world of Arkenhas is a former colony of ours, Zegenthis. We have accepted your presence here. However, there are areas that are now forbidden to you. They will be cordoned off by our troops. Any attempt to enter these areas will be answered by force."
A pause, and Harshin's eyes closed again for a moment, as though he were listening to some unseen voice.
"The government of Arkenhas will continue to function as it has. However, Arkenhas will no longer bear responsibility for system defence, nor will it be permitted a military fleet capable of faster-than-light travel. Secondly, the temples of the Narrow Path will be established in every city, and no attempt will be made to harm or coerce those who wish to visit them. Thirdly, foreign policy of Arkenhas is now the concern of the Unbroken Eye. Proclamations regarding trade, military' policy, and other such things will be made firstly to the Parliament, who may then disseminate them among the population or not, as you choose."
"Who-... who are you?"
Harshin looked over at Akar.
"I am Harshin."
"No, I mean, who are..."
Akar gestured helplessly.
"All of you?"
"We are the Unbroken Eye. Two thousand, five hundred and thirty-two years ago, the population of this colony was destroyed by the Enemy. In that time, many of our people have forgotten the Narrow Path. We are the Eye, however, and we do not forget. After the fall of Talyth, it was considered necessary that these worlds become ours."
"These... worlds?"
"There are thirty-six inhabited worlds no more than three jumps from Arkenhas. Twenty-one of these worlds are former Talythian colonies. The thirteen systems these worlds are in will be recovered, on similar terms to the occupation of Arkenhas. Two of these worlds are being recovered presently. With a suspected military alliance to prevent recovery of these worlds by the inhabitants of these worlds, conquest is estimated to take approximately six weeks."
"Why are you telling us this?"
"You will find some method of smuggling a message offworld, undoubtedly. It is imagined you will warn these worlds. Their knowledge of our superiority will make resistance less likely. Death is undesirable for those who have not yet walked the Path."
"I... see. What is the Path?"
"I am not a Vas-Talya. If you desire to learn more of the Path, places of learning will be built in each of your cities. This meeting is concluded."
With that, the man named Harshin walked off.
Varnholm had, of course, already begun to adapt. He had not been the most visionary of leaders, but he understood where power came from, and it seemed power now came from this... Unbroken Eye. So there it was, the new font of strength. It would be best to ingratiate himself quickly, he thought. The more he knew of these people, the less he and his would suffer.
(OOC: Open after next post.)
