Grow Or Die (FT, TG To Join)

[Doppio Giudici]

Pvuk-Yur Solar System, Masunk' Planet

Pvuk-Yur wasn't a very bright star, her orange light was just barely enough to be of significance. She held Masunk' in a close embrace, as was needed to keep that planet warm. The orb of water and dirt soaked in all it could, for it was larger then many habitual worlds and thus hungered for light. The atmosphere was toxic, but bacteria made it just fine on the surface. Several installations and garrisons existed, along with an orbital dock that held around 20 Iron Shield Class Destroyers. Each of the 1.5 km long ships had a forward facing Rail-Gun. A wide battery of other weapons was installed, along with effective but primitive technology. The years here were short, 28% as long as back home. The toxic world had several masses of ruins that were being examined via a complex process of trial, error, prayer, and luck. This was the colony that was worth something, this was the installation that people worked so hard to build. Nidus was a big big world, the home-planet was covered in competing alliances that stared each other down. The other planets in that system were snatched up, and the useful systems with them. The Prole Confederation took their time to get to the stars, choosing to do so after they built their own jump-gate and had access to faster then light.

Now, they had anti-matter and the ability to enter hyperspace with a single ship, but the universe turned out to be cruel. The systems around them summoned up pirates, slavers, and raiders. Other alliances snatched up the precious, precious refugees, depriving the Prole Confederation of them. The loose alliance of five super-states, made up of three major ethnic groups and hundreds of others, was troubled by this. The largest ethnic group, the Illumien people, had insisted three years prior for a huge military exercise that took up 5% of the population. Entire cities played along and people gambled on the results. Mercenaries were hired, Stage Five Treasonists were activated, and the Navy was prepared. They reached out to all allies they could find, for war seemed to be on it's way.

The elected governor of Masunk' waited, tapping his fingers on the imported oak table, pouring himself more Steg as he waited. Maybe he would get a chance to live up to the glory of his ancestors, maybe they could stand as equals with the martyrs.

[Principality of Zundrbar]

Rear Admiral Solomon Judah heard the sound of his monotone alarm ringing. Groggily reaching forward to turn it off, he could feel the events of last night starting to set in and laid back in his bed. His head felt like a thunderstorm and even in the pitch dark, he could sense that his eyes must've been bloodshot from the fatigue.

He saw the flicker of a switch outside of his personal quarters and heard the footsteps of his personal secretary outside of his quarters.

"Rear Admiral?" She asked, knocking on the door. Judah pushed himself up in his bed, his body aching.

"Rear Admiral? It's time to wake up." She asked again, this time knocking a bit faster and harder.

"I'll be out in a minute Azaliah," he replied in a gruff, monotone voice. He turned on the lights and walked over to the door, opening it. The sudden brightness blinded him, but after blinking a few times he grew used to it. He turned to Azaliah, who was walking over with a mug of Caff in her hand.

"You look like you could use one of these Rear Admiral," she said, smirking, "You've got a busy day ahead of you."

"Just what I need," he said, taking a sip from the mug, "Well, you know me- bad news first- what's on the agenda today?" The Caff tasted strong and bitter, just the way he liked it. Even after his first sip, he could start to feel his headache subsiding and his body adjusting to being awake.

"Well, we've gotten closer since our last scanning search, so the boys downstairs picked up something new this time." She took a sip of Caff, the bags under her eyes suggesting she had been up the entire night, "It looks like we aren't the only ones looking at the system."

"What do you mean?" Judah asked inquisitively, "Did you pick up some terrestrial inhabitants? I think we've got enough Terrestrial Warfare operatives to deal with them sufficiently."

"Not exactly, sir- we've picked up vessels in the system and their positions suggest that they are well-established. Not a military patrol, seems like more of a permanent garrison."

The Vice Admiral sighed, "I guess I picked the wrong day to enjoy myself."

[Doppio Giudici]

Pvuk-Yur Solar System, Masunk' Planet
Prime Installation

“So, have they picked us up yet or are they blind as an imperialist?” Simon, the governor, asked

“Well, Sir, they appear to be not registering us at the moment.” The vice-governor stated

“Anaiah, you aren’t going to do that in front of guests, are you?”

“You used to like when I called you Sir, said it was very pleasing.”

“I’m an old man now, nothing is pleasing.”

“Now now, things will get better Hun. We can do this together.”

Simon sighed to himself and drummed his fingers on the table again. He was elected because she had been his running-mate, she was part of the package and without her some other person would be elected. Simon sighed to himself and looked at the ceiling, breathing in again. He wore a grey, silk suit-jacket, over a plain, white, cotton t-shirt. His jacket had several patches sewn into the sleeves and shoulders, along with various pinned ribbons. No medals, medals were for war-heros and there was a shortage of wars.

“I think they noticed us.” Anaiah stated, staring at the projected screen on her arm. “Do you want to send a X-ray message?”

“Might as well.” Simon supposed “Tell them this is Prole Confederation space and they can pass through or stay here if they have a little talk with us first. If they don’t comply, they have to leave and they can’t come back till we talk. Address to them our other systems claimed, put Nidus down as one of our own.”

“Yeah yeah, same message you keep insisting upon.” She chuckled, as she typed away. “There, first bit is being sent via satellite, next part is being typed now.”

[Principality of Zundrbar]

The Vice Admiral fumbled with the buttons on his uniform as he made his way to the meeting room. Though the multiple cups of Caff and hot shower woke him up, his eyes still felt as fatigued as ever and his headache had returned. He was late and had sent Azaliah to tell them he'd be there in five minutes- a half an hour ago.

As he turned the corner to the entrance to the meeting, he saw the face of Marcus Cain, the commanding officer of the Terrestrial Warfare units. "About damn time you showed," he said jokingly. Living up to his reputation, Cain came dressed in combat fatigues and was smoking a cigar as he waited for the Vice Admiral.

"Shut it Cain," the Vice Admiral said coldly as he scanned his uniform, "Would it kill you to look nice?"

Cain smirked as he finished the cigar and opened the meeting door. Sitting around the table were several logistical and strategic staffers that had come along for the journey. "I don't know about y'all, but I'm itching for some bug killing," Cain exclaimed as he walked in. The long running scar that ran along Cain's tall forehead and well-defined cheekbones reminded the Vice Admiral that though Cain were jovial, he had the most combat experience of anyone in the room.

Azaliah and the Vice Admiral made eye contact as he walked in and she smirked after hearing Cain's words. Ignoring them, Azaliah began, "Since I last briefed you Vice Admiral, they've sent us a message."

"What? Have they got dibs?" Cain joked.

Azaliah smirked and nodded, a tad condescendingly, "One could put it that way. The system is under the control of the 'Prole Confederation,' which seems to have a strong interstellar presence outside of this area. We can either pass through the system or establish a dialogue."

"The Prole Confederation'- what kind of name is that?" Cain said inquisitively, "Did we come all this way to get told by a bunch of hippies and eco-freakos that we can't develop this area?"

"For Christ sake, Cain," the Vice Admiral said, grinning and shaking his head. "Inform that we are interested in establishing a strategic dialogue and inform them of our own astrography."

[Doppio Giudici]

Pvuk-Yur Solar System, Masunk' Planet
Prime Installation

"They are going to sit down with us, I guess you were right after all." Anaiah quipped "We should be able to speak to them in a few hours or so."

"It's a good thing I have been using this table as my dining table this entire time." Simon mumbled, as he got up. "I will make us some...What time is it?"

"Honestly, I have no idea." Anaiah admitted "Considering how hostile the sun is. I really don't want to go check. How far are we into whatever shift we are in?"

"Um, Dinner?" Simon read from his own arm-display "I think it's dinner for shift two."

"Okay, so go make us dinner then you hunk." Anaiah said with a smile, looking at him.

Simon went into the kitchen in the next room, as the carbide reinforced, terran-steel doors opened as soon as he got close. They closed behind him and he got to work preparing Tatum, a meal consisting of layers of pasta, some plant meat, and cheese from sheep. There was many ways to prepare it, but his status and the years of health concerns for all of them, had made this his recipe for it. As he came back with two plates of it for them, he looked over at her. She set herself down in his lap and smiled at him, as he sighed loudly again.

"You have been like this since the honeymoon." Simon dryly reminder her.

"And you think I should stop being so grateful for my husband?" Anaiah questioned, with a joking glare. "Do you want me to feed you or not?"

"Fine, but only if you pester our children to come visit us." Simon insisted

"Tough bargain, but fine by me." Anaiah lamented.

A few more hours passed of begrunded cuddling and petting, before she was back in her own chair and would leave him alone. Simon knew that he was likely to have a breakdown if he wasn't touched on a regular basis, but that didn't mean he would admit how helpless he was to her. To the pirates he was ruthless, to the traitors even more so. He cracked his fingers and thought over what the plans had been, what his people were proposing. The shipment had come in, the Class Fives were awake, and it was soon that they would push forward their agenda at a high or low cost. This was a matter of religion, of empathy, and it would not be set aside. The question was, would these new visitors be part of this plan or be another thing in the way?

[Principality of Zundrbar]

After Azaliah left the room to inform the communications department of their new orders, Cain reached into his pocket and took out a pack of cigarettes, offering one to the Vice Admiral before lighting his own. "In all seriousness, what options are we looking at here?" Cain asked, turning to the policy advisors they had brought with them.

Lucius Levi reached into the inner pocket of his Buttonwood suit pocket. A tough talking lobbyist for Kronsfeld, one of the nation's premier mining conglomerates, he was well known for his temper and his ruthlessness. Him and Cain got along well, but the Vice Admiral was never fond of his company. "Well Captain, it doesn't take a guy like me to tell you that we're missing out on a big chunk of mineral resources out here. That being said, coming all this way to lose a fleet and start an interstellar border dispute doesn't seem very advantageous to any of our interests. I'd say we should inquire about any possible investment opportunities into the system, perhaps set the stage for a future trade agreement, though I must confess I may be sounding a little too optimistic here."

"With a name like the 'Prole Confederation,' do you think they'll care about letting you set up shop in the system?" the Vice Admiral shot back, "We should keep these negotiations as brief as possible. I don't want any of our commercial interests interfering for the time being; we need to keep this dialogue focused on the main issues. We don't even know if this is a trap so that a couple of terrorists can make a quick buck off a ransom payment."

"I have to admit Vice Admiral, I've always admired your hawkish tendencies," Lucius levi replied, giving the kind of grin that suggested he was lying through his teeth, "You are right, we don't know who's out there, in fact, I'd give the order for the scanners to check closely and make sure this is even their system to begin with and not just some place they've been colonizing for a couple hours that we happened to stumble upon."

The Vice Admiral narrowed his eyes, "I have to say Lucius, for once I agree, but I'm not keen on starting an interstellar crisis. We can discuss territorial claims after we get into a more favorable position, but for now we should err on the side of caution." The Vice Admiral let out a puff of smoke from his cigarette, "That being said- Cain, I want your men on full readiness. I don't trust these guys one bit and I want you on standby in case things go south."

Cain nodded and let out of a puff of smoke before leaving the meeting room to prepare the garrison. As he left, the Vice Admiral waited for the door to close before turning to Levi and narrowing his eyes. "Any under the table negotiations and I'll see to it myself that Rumsfeld deals with you himself."

[Doppio Giudici]

Pvuk-Yur Solar System, Masunk' Planet
Prime Installation

"I bet they are running around in panic at the sight of our Iron-Shield Class Destroyers." Anaiah guessed

"They likely have more ships then us, like almost everyone does." Simon grumbled out, looking over at her "We just have bigger ships and this is our territory, that's it right now."

"Shouldn't we tell the collection of ships we have docked to get in position?" Anaiah suggested

"We have done this before with the pirates and any visiting traders, it's routine at this point." Simon reminded her, drumming his fingers on the table again. "I sit in this chair, having known someone is getting closer due to some rumors and intelligence, and I wait for their reply to whatever message I feel like sending."

"Well, this is a different group, so maybe we should suggest some different tactics?" Anaiah implored with puppy-dog eyes. "Come on, just for practice."

"Fine, fine." Simon gave in, resting his head down in his hands. "Just send a uh… Send a standard message to the Admiral and tell him to put his ships in half readiness with sensors up. All ships will be facing them or in a position that they can't be it."

She pulled the thing off her wrist, adjusted the settings and tapped away at the table, pressing each projected key. After about half a minute she looked up at him and smiled.

"Anything else?" Anaiah wondered

"Yes, tell the civilians to dock or land." Simon added "I will go get a few platoons of Kinful and make sure they are guarding this positon at full readiness. Not that I need them with the divisions ten minutes away."

"They will be at least mildly impressed." Anaiah hoped.

"Anyone who isn't impressed with Kinful is not worth working with." Simon insisted

He walked quickly outside of the room and through another set of strong doors that were automatic. The Governor moved looked at each door and started tapping at the various door alarms, waking up each platoon in their separate barracks installed close to his quarters and the meeting room. Inside each area was a meeting room, a hallway and a series of more and more rooms, many of them underground or on upper floors. The building was built so that they would be right here and able to maintain cohesion, but not be distracted with too many of them in one place. Their loyalty was certain, their hearts pure and kind. To place one of them close to him would be enough to convince the entire lot of them to remain close. Kinful refuses to be alone and refused to let any of their number be so.

"I do not pity those who would dare raise a hand upon me or these Kinful." Simon mummered

[Principality of Zundrbar]

"Vice Admiral, this an important duty that the citizens of the Dominion and my office are conferring unto you," Chancellor Rumsfeld announced to the Vice Admiral via the Hypercom, "I hope that you understand the weight of the situation."

"Yes, Chancellor," the Vice Admiral replied, "I will defend Dominion interests and the safety of its citizens at all costs."

Rumsfeld replied, "I've heard you say those words a hundred times by now and never once have I doubted your sincerity Vice Admiral. Godspeed." The communication channel then canceled out and the Vice Admiral sat back in his chair. The only thought on his mind for the past half an hour had been Levi's posturing in the meeting. He almost trusted the Prole Confederation more than Levi.

Then he heard the door to his personal suite open and the sound of Levi's shoes clacking against the surface. "Vice Admiral, I take it you've completed your briefing with the Chancellor?" He asked inquisitively.

The Vice Admiral could feel Levi's stare digging into the back of his head. "That is a correct observation Levi," the Vice Admiral replied coldly, "Are all preparations made for contact?"

"Cain's men are itching for some combat and the fleet is on standby," Levi replied, ignoring the Vice Admiral's tone, "Rumsfeld even ordered two fleets out of Asaph to be deployed in the event of any aggressive negotiations."

"I take it your contacts in the Senate must be having a field day over the revelations," the Vice Admiral said in a better tone, "Seems like all you lobbyists are clamoring about is more arms contracts and trade route expansion."

Levi smiled and nodded, "You know my kind well, so to speak, but the Office of the Chancellor has put all of the information about contact under the control of the Office of Strategic Influence."

"The OSI?" The Vice Admiral was genuinely surprised he would've pulled such a bold move; the OSI was mostly used for foreign information warfare and public diplomacy operations, "He must really be interested in this system."

"That's one to put it, yes," Levi nodded, smiling, "This operation is of the utmost importance to the National Security Council."

The Vice Admiral narrowed his eyes at the end of Levi's comment. The way he spoke as if he were part of the Security Council and knew the Chancellor personally rubbed the Vice Admiral the wrong way. He made eye contact with Levi after a few seconds of silence, "What's your agenda Levi?"

"My agenda?" Levi smirked and raised his eyebrows.

"Why are you even here?" The Vice Admiral asked in a sterner tone, "I don't know why Cain even trusts you sometimes."

"My agenda is to defend the interests of the Dominion at all costs," Levi replied, just as sternly as Judah, "The same as you, Vice Admiral." If there had been a pinch of contempt in Levi's voice earlier, there were ten tons of it now, "I'd recommend that you focus more on that rather than pursuing some harebrained conspiracy theory."

"Just stay out of my way," the Vice Admiral replied as he got up from his chair and held the door for Levi to exit the suite. The two walked to the bridge in silence, Levi breaking off as they neared his own personal residence.

The Vice Admiral was greeted by Azaliah as he entered the bridge, "Good afternoon, Vice Admiral, I take it your conference with the Chancellor went well?"

The Vice Admiral flashed a fake smile and nodded, but his eyes still had the stern expression he had given to Levi, "Yes, it went well, thank you."

"Our sensors are showing that their fleet is showing a more aggressive posturing. Cain suggested it could be a prelude to an attack, but our strategic advisers say that it seems like a standardized movement."

"Send a clarification message about the strategic dialogue, but keep the fleet in current formation," the Vice Admiral replied, "I don't want things to get too hot too fast. Closest fleet is back in Dominion space."

"Understood Vice Admiral," Azaliah replied, Is there anything else I can do for you before I go?"

The Vice Admiral stopped and took a second to think, "Yes there is one thing." Leaning in, he pushed his mouth close to her ear and his voice became a whisper, "Keep an eye on Levi for me."

Azaliah looked up and nodded silently, her eyes flashing concern that the Vice Admiral chose to ignore. She broke off from Judah and headed to the communications department, as the Vice Admiral sat down in his command office and reclined in his chair.

It seemed like Levi would be more of a problem than the Prole Confederation in this matter, the Vice Admiral thought to himself as he waited for Azaliah to return.

[Doppio Giudici]

Pvuk-Yur Solar System, Masunk' Planet
Prime Installation

Simon was sitting back down at his table with a few different Kinful in the room and many others positioned around the area close to him along the walls. They took cover behind every turn, and others stood along the walls as if they were attendants. They thought it would look defensive, but not too defensive. Some of them were dating, as the Kinful served without thought to gender, and others simply took turns rubbing each others back while they waited to be put at full readiness. One of them, the leader of all the Kinful, walked along the hallways. He carried an automatic carbine paired with a wrist brace and a minor ex-suit that consisted of metal and cables running along his back and his limbs. Yoshua carried the weapon pointed up, with the safety off, resting it on his shoulder. His pair of infra-red goggles were pushed up onto his helmet, that held them with a magnetic charge. His hair was long and his beard of medium length, but his youth was obvious. The Kinful put their right elbow close to their right hip and placed their hand close to their left shoulder, crossing their arm across their chests. They said nothing and watched him, as he made eye contact with each of them in turn as he passed. When he finally made his way to the meeting room, he sat down to the left of the Governor, before noticing the Vice-Governor had moved her chair right next to the Governor

"I wish I had been there to tell you, that Cherished would behave like this." Yoshua stated "She behaves like a Kinful."

"I am simply the descendant of a Cherished, and I thought I would be fine in my youth." Simon muttered "Anaiah is a very good mother, so I really can't complain too much."

"Simon has been the absolute best father to our boys and girls, and even our grandchildren." Anaiah quipped joyfully. "He is diverse and healthy, our children learned empathy at a slightly faster then normal rate, and they all bare their own markings. Blue, yellow, grey, and black; but our children all love and respect each other."

"You have a black?" Yoshua gasped "I worked with one of those before, he was so... numb all the time. You could never know if he was feeling anything."

"Yes, one of our children is...very unemotional." Anaiah admitted "As soon as the marking showed up on his chest and it darkened, we understood why his early childhood was so hard. Today however he is a General back home and his job is to run the military exercises, and collect the data needed to prevent losses in future wars. Kohm loves us, his family, and his people. He has two kids, his wife is a dear, and we are very proud of him."

"I'm glad to hear that." Yoshua replied, before resting his weapon on the table at a safe angle. He looked over at Simon and breathed in deeply, before speaking. "Is Paul awake?"

"He's been woken up, yes." Simon answered, watching his friend closely with concern. "You still having mixed feelings about him."

"He's still a Class Five Traitor." Yoshua noted "He may have taught me how to shoot and any of his command might be my father, but it doesn't exactly matter. No Kinful wants to know their father and many don't want to know their mother. It depends on what Class Five Traitor you come from and which... innocent was sadly paired up."

There was a loud beep from Anaiah's device and she looked down at it, before tapping away at the table again.

"They are repeating themselves, I think they are intimidated." She told him. "I just replied that this is just a defensive posture, and that we will save the war for the Imperialists."

[Principality of Zundrbar]

The Vice Admiral heard the sound of footsteps approaching the command office, but the sound was a gruff harshness. It was alien to the click clack efficiency of Levi's dress shoes and the graceful elegance of Azaliah's heels. It could only be Cain's combat boots. The footsteps continued until he heard the door open slowly and the sound disappear as Cain's boots adjusted to the soft carpet.

Cain entered in silence, but looked up at the Vice Admiral's grim expression as he sat down in his own seat. "You alright Solomon?" He asked casually, as he lit a cigarette before offering one to the Vice Admiral.

"I'm fine," the Vice Admiral replied coldly, "Just the mission messing around with me."

Cain grinned, "You seem more troubled by Levi than by the mission." There was truth in Cain's words- Solomon had to give to Cain; he might've been a yokel, but he knew how to read people. Solomon looked over and flashed a half smile and nodded as he lit his own cigarette.

"You're better at reading minds than you know, Cain," the Vice Admiral replied, more jovial but still having grim undertones, "You should've tried out the OSI."

"OSI?" Cain grinned and chuckled, "We could have an army of bugs on our doorstep and the OSI would be more concerned with how the news would be received in the Gamma Quadrant than what's in our backyard." Cain let out a puff of smoke from his cigarette, "I think I'd go crazy in that den of pencil-pushing bureaucrats and humanitarian; I've always liked to be on the frontlines."

The Vice Admiral grinned and shook his head, but Cain continued, "The truth is I don't blame you for getting a little uncomfortable about Levi; I feel the same way sometimes. Man always look like he's plotting his next move, like he's got some kind of agenda or something."

"Wouldn't be surprised if he does," the Vice Admiral added, "He seems to get along with you better than he does."

Cain scoffed, "That's just for appearances; he doesn't want to be a pariah on the vessel y'know." Cain let out another puff of smoke, "Man's got an impressive resume- a decade in the Armed Forces and twice that in contracted security. He's pulled out of half a dozen hellholes by his bootstraps. And that's just his military career- the man transformed the Board of Trade from a group of bureaucrats into an assertive organization with three seats on the National Security Council."

"I'm sure his lobbying activity beyond that can stand on its own," the Vice Admiral added, "It's that side that's getting to worry me. How much does this guy have invested in this system anyway?"

"Who knows?" Cain shrugged, "Most of the exploratory fleets I get assigned to are just doing the dirty work for guys like Levi. Dealing with natives, setting up shop in hostile conditions, you know the drill." Cain let out a puff of smoke, "Never met a guy as assertive as Levi though, most of the guys Corporate sends on these things are some jerks from the office who got a little too friendly with their secretaries. You shift 'em out here and there's practically no way for them to screw things up so long as they listen to guys like you and me."

"Onto more pertinent matters, what do you think of this whole strategic dialogue business?" The Vice Admiral asked, changing the subject abruptly, "Seems to me like there's something we're not being told here."

"Well, I don't know if you've heard from Levi, but apparently the Chancellor put all of this under OSI classification. Rumor has it couple fleets are being taken out of Asaph for a quick response. I can't say I disagree with you." Cain replied, still smoking, "I'm pretty skeptical about this whole thing in general. Fleet movements were fine according to the analysts, but we're definitely in established space- I can sense it."

"Which begs the question of why Kronsfeld even requested one of these," the Vice Admiral added. "They're spending billions to 'discover' a place that's already being colonized- that's gotta cut into their bottom line. If I were Levi, I'd be getting pretty nervous about what the boys back home are gonna do."

"Kronsfeld is Kronsfeld. If they lose a couple billion on this system, they'll just find another one in a couple months and request a new explorator. Y'know Solomon, you grew up in the Inner System, but as a Belter like me tell you- everything I saw out there was Kronsfeld. My dad worked for Kronsfeld, his dad worked for Kronsfeld, and his dad worked Kronsfeld. Law and order- Kronsfeld hired guns. Food- Kronsfeld. We once got a visit from the Kronsfeld VP for the Belt and it was like a rock concert." Cain let out a puff of smoke, "If there's something going on here, it's got more to do with that Confederation than with Kronsfeld."

Then came the sound of Azaliah's heels hitting the ground, "Sounds like your girlfriend's back," Cain said, grinning and hitting the Vice Admiral's shoulder. Though Vice Admiral and Azaliah didn't have anything official, Solomon couldn't remember a day that Cain hadn't joked about it.

Solomon looked to the door and then looked back at Cain as the footsteps got nearer, "Must be something to do with communications." Solomon crushed his cigarette in the ashtray on the table and faced the door as Azaliah opened it.

"Vice Admiral, we've received a response from the Confederation vessel. They are only establishing a defensive posture and will save war 'for the imperialists," Azaliah said, "How should we respond?"

The Vice Admiral paused in thought for a moment before replying, "Azaliah, ask if they would permit me to bring an armed escort for our dialogue aboard their vessel and make the final preparations for our departure."

"Yes Vice Admiral," she replied, disappearing as quickly as she had arrived.

The Vice Admiral turned back to Cain as he lit another cigarette, "Only for the imperialists huh? Wonder what that makes us."

[Doppio Giudici]

Pvuk-Yur Solar System, Masunk' Planet
Prime Installation

"My salary is 33,600 kilo-credits." Simon read, from his tax records, which were done for him by the tax collection agency. "Due to inflation over the last many many years, 33,600,000 Terran-Credits is roughly enough to buy 151,351 cans of hearty beef stew, 510.291 grams or 18 ounces, made in 2012. When the goverment first started taking an account of inflation and prices, said can could be bought three million times with my current wages."

"Remember when we first met and a salary of 33,600 kilo-credits seemed like a lot of money?" Anaiah remembered, leaning back with her eyes closed. "At this point a zinc disk is 11.2 Terran-Credits. Explains why we stopped printing numbers on the disks and just started putting little chips in them, so they remain a steady value to match the worth of their metal."

"What do you think will happen to the economy if we go to war?" Simon wondered, rubbing his chin.

"We are definitely going to war, the question is if it's this month or next month." Yoshua insisted, his weapon now resting on the table and separate from his arm. "The people are upset and they get what they want."

"We spent so much time on the defense trying to live, and so much time on the offensive trying to fix the world; that war is who we are." Simon sighed out, resting his head on the table, very tired of waiting. "It's grow or die for us. We either expand and we struggle and we help, or we go insane from life being too good. Everyone knows this, it's talked about all the time, and it's why the military never needed to promote itself. The colonies filled up with people trying to get to them, because life is harder here. There is some kind of meaning in struggle, it makes you feel alive and it soothes your shame."

"Hubby, we got a reply." Anaiah interrupted. "They are asking if they can bring an armed escort. They seem to think we are on a vessel or something."

"Uh, hmmmmm." Simon thought to himself. "What do you think Yoshua?"

"Well, I would personally be insulted if they didn't bring a fair share of service rifles and handguns." Yoshua admited, blinking.

"Tell them they can bring their escort, but to keep the incendiary and explosives off the installation." Simon suggested "Oh... and be sure to tell them we are on the surface at the largest installation, next to the space-elevator. They can land on the surface or dock themselves at our... dock, then take the elevator if they want to the surface. It's really up to them how much fuel they want to use and how much time they want to use up."

Anaiah repeated some of the words he said to herself as she started typing away something close to what the said, but with some more friendly language in there. After the message was sent, she blew her husband a kiss and winked at him. Simon looked away and groaned, clearly too old for such affection.

Pvuk-Yur Solar System, Masunk' Planet
Tartarus Eight Installation

"The current plan is to send a crew of each Level Five Treasonist, and four Level Four Treasonists into each Razer Class vessel." The Intercom declared. "A system of automation and large numbers of non-sentient expendable androids will be aboard. The group of vessels will be attached into a recovered trading vessel and deployed after a series of jumps to hide where the vessel came from."

Paul kept his eyes closed and remained on his knees, praying that this time he would actually not make it. It was what he longed for, but couldn't bring himself to as they had conditioned him to be unable to take his own life or the life of a noncombatant.

"Each vessel will have an anti-matter engine wired into it, and is specially modified for this mission alone." The Intercom went on. "Life-support, food storage, hyper-drive opener, and so on are not installed into the vessels. You will be operating in suits that provide around 20 hours of oxygen and nutrients, based on a standard exo-suit design. Should you manage to do your damage and not be badly wounded, you are to move back to the hidden cargo vessel, which will take off to prep for another attack. Should your vessel be badly damaged and it's weapons be in poor condition without the ability to escape, you are ordered overload the engine. The vessel is to be steered into a close hostile target and rigged to explode it's anti-matter engine. All losses in this operation will be declared martyrs and eternally pardoned of all crimes against humanity and the people. Crimes against bodily sovereignty will be forgiven and to a degree forgotten. We wish you the best of luck and we hope to forgive you soon, we are sorry that things couldn't have been done another way."

Paul raised his head up with his torso and the others did the same with him. He blinked a few times and rested his hands on the ground, sighing to himself again.

"Tough choice." Paul confessed "Do I go all out on the first operation and get my forgiveness now, or do I do more then one to be sure I am forgiven without a doubt? Die soon and be at peace, or die later and be more at peace?"

"A few years ago, I would choose death sooner." A Class Five Treasonist replied "I saw something and I would take it, without thought of why or what kind of damage I was doing to them or me. Now, I think I should wait. There is plenty of places on my arm to cut at, plenty of vile things to make myself drink. I can keep my shame at bay for at least the first operation."

[Principality of Zundrbar]

The sound of the MV hitting the brakes was all too familiar to Captain Marcus Cain, reminding him of his battlefield experience for a quick second before he popped out of his passenger seat. Letting out periodic puffs of smoke from the cigar in his mouth, his combat boots clanged against the metal surface of the barracks as he approached the 9 men he had personally selected as their security detail.

"Now, y'all are some of the toughest sons of guns on this exploratory fleet and dare I say in the Dominion Terrestrial Warfare ops," Cain began with a loud hoo-ah! from the soldiers, "You guys have got what it takes for this mission, but this mission is gonna take all that you've got. We're going to be heading into potentially hostile territory today and to make matters worse, we're limited- no explosives and no incendiary devices. We're gonna be going in with only small arms and back-up's gonna take at least a half an hour to hit the surface, maybe even a day or more to find out where we are. I want you all ready at any moment to do what it takes to defend the life of the Vice Admiral- the only man that the Chancellor wants negotiating with that damned Confederation. And men, I don't care how much you hate those anti-imperialist hippie freaks, Lord knows I do, but you are only to fire when given the order. Is that understood?"

The men saluted and shouted in unison, "Sir, yes sir!" Cain nodded and threw the remains of his cigar against the metal floor of the barracks, "I want you all ready in the shuttle in 5!" He shouted as he hopped back into the passenger seat of the MV.

Meanwhile, the Vice Admiral rubbed his eyes and drank his second mug of Caff as he sat in his seat on the shuttle. He had been so busy dealing with the intricacies of Levi's agenda and the strategic dialogue with the Confederation that he hadn't paid attention to his own fatigue, which was now beginning to set in. Azaliah had caught him nodding off when they first entered the shuttle as they waited for Captain Cain to show up with the security detail.

"I hope the Caff wakes you up Vice Admiral," Azaliah said in her sweet voice, "I'm sure the Chancellor wouldn't want his best negotiator half asleep." Even if Levi was trying to run some kind of secret agenda in regards to the negotiations, he was certain that Azaliah would be on his side. "Either way, I'm sure you can catch a few minutes of shut eye on the way down. Just try not to fall asleep during the dialogue," she said with a smirk.

The Vice Admiral nodded but stared down into the dark mug of Caff on the table in front of him. He took a sip, but the only thing that was on his mind was the thunderstorm going on his head that had the occasional pangs of lightning in regards to Levi. He had put almost no thought towards the strategic dialogue or what kinds of things they would be discussing. Mineral rights? Human rights in foreign policy? Anthropocentrism? The Vice Admiral had much to conceal about the Dominion if "imperialism" is what they were after.

Cain and the security detail entered the shuttle. The hardened soldiers' faces were masked in their combat armor and even if they weren't, they scattered to various positions in the shuttle before the Vice Admiral could catch a good glimpse of them. Cain took of his helmet and sat down at the table with Azaliah and the Vice Admiral.

"Ready for the negotiations?" Cain asked, retaining jovial hints but overall much more serious than he had been before.

"I hope so Cain," the Vice Admiral said, "I sure hope so."

[Doppio Giudici]

Pvuk-Yur Solar System, Masunk' Planet
Prime Installation

"They appear to be very close to landing." Anaiah informed, looking up from her screen again. "In other news, PG won another mock battle again Vadia. Several divisions worth of paramilitaries fought a long urban battle that turned things towards our teams favor. Our son should be very interested in these results, I just sent a message back to him about it, should get to him in about eight hours or so."

"If I had known they would take this long, I would have taken a nap." Simon stated, resting his head on the table still. "Yoshua, do you hope where some energy drinks are?"

"We have plenty of them to spare for you!" Yoshua declared "I will go get them myself!"

Yoshua leapt into action, landing on his feet and rushing off without a care in the universe for the caffeine his friend so desperately needed. He moved around others and down halls, before stopping a few times for only a moment so that doors could open for him. The operator moved towards a private kitchen, grabbed several different flavors and put them in a cooler, before turning it on. Heading towards his friends again, his various men and women got out of his way, cheering him on but having no idea what he was doing. As fellow Kinful, they assumed whatever he was up too must be cool and important. As he finally got to the meeting room, he opened the cooler up and set several drinks on the table.

"I got cranberry, bubble-gum, apples, apple bubble-gum, blueberry, pineapple, cherry, grape, and banana." Yoshua read, as he put each of them down. "Which one would you like? Anaiah, would you like one too?"

"I would like the banana one." Anaiah asked, smiling nicely.

"Cranberry sounds good." Simon quirped, lifting his head up to open the can and sip from it quietly.

"So, what exactly is the protocol for meeting other lifeforms or humans from other systems?" Anaiah wondered, before taking several deep gulps. "Wow, my brain is going crazy! Woo!"

"Oh no, I forgot about that." Simon sighed out, sipping his drink again. "There is no protocol at the moment that works every single time, our best bet is changing the hallway projectors to show the seal and play some choice of music. That is after we scan their ship to learn their language and get our translation software working. Since that already happened and the update on that already reached me, I believe I have a song already picked out."

"Let the waiting game begin." Anaiah stated, before standing up with her arms in the air. "Woo! Diplomacy!"

Pvuk-Yur Solar System, Masunk' Planet
Prime Installation

A large ground landing spot was given as a good landing zone to the visitors and a docking bay was prepped to open for about twenty seconds to let them land, before beginning the process of scrubbing the area so that it was safe and filling the space with breathable air. After that a tram would be offered to them, which was the size of a van and moved around 129 kilometers a hour. The instant that it was known that area and tram would be rigged to play and show specific images, which were set out in advance by the governor.

The banner of Vadia would flap along the walls, burning in the wind, as the light sound of gunfire would play. Muskets would fire, cannons would softly roar, the sounds that might be a in good video-game. The images would shift to a boarding room, a realistic depiction of the emperor of Vadia, that that very time. He was to be shown, standing and talking to an adviser, a trusted friend of his.

"There is too many of them, they keep coming."

"What about the hospitals? What are our losses?"

"They could be worse, they could be worse. Many of those hurt have a chance to live, but they are in no condition to fight. We need more men and we don't have enough."

"We could take them from the factories."

"No, we need those people to be there to keep making the guns and ammo. We can't look to the farmers either as they feed us and the army."

"Who is not working right now, besides the children?"

"The women? It would be insane to even consider that possibility."

"We don't have a better option. We are going to die if we don't do something now! Go tell the women the factories are open! Go tell them now!"

After that would play one of the anthems of the Prole Confederation, which was called "Go Forward". Various projectors would show the accomplishments of the Prole Confederation, each alliance, each groundbreaking discovery, each glorious victory.

"Go make the world safe.
Go make the world free.
Pull the tyrants to the ground.
Open their eyes so they can see.

It's not about politics or money.
It's not about if things are cheap.
Go forth and raise hell right this day.
And I don't care if the cost is very steep.

I don't care about getting elected.
I don't care if I am liked at all.
What I want is the innocent to be safe.
Make our bodies into a strong wall.

I can't take the guilt inside me
The struggle upward is the only break
Go to the dark corners of the world
And kill those who growl out and take

Cure cancer because the deaths
They put a hole in my rocky heart
Make hunger an impossibility
This pain tears my insides apart

I am what you would call a Prole
Pain is what makes me this strong
I would rather be laughed at now
Then tomorrow be so very wrong

Go make the world safe.
Go make the world free.
Pull the tyrants to the ground.
Open their eyes so they can see.

It's not about politics or money.
It's not about if things are cheap.
Go forth and raise hell right this day.
And I don't care if the cost is very steep.

[Principality of Zundrbar]

As the shuttle descended to the designated area, the three sat in silence staring down at their mugs of Caff. The entire crew, in fact, sat in silence. The Vice Admiral sat, pondering how the strategic dialogue would go. He would begin by asking for the ideals of the nation, then transition into its history. He would ask for the most informative answers, while providing the vaguest responses if asked about the Dominion. Their blanket hatred of "imperialism" suggested that the two polities would not get along, yet that was the goal Chancellor Rumsfeld had assigned him. Of course, he was equally opposed to allowing Levi to corrupt the negotiations progress, by changing the focus from a strategic dialogue on interstellar cooperation to a discussion on bottom lines and mineral rights. Those were important subjects, indeed, they were not to be ignored, but the Senate had the final word on all commercial agreements. Those would come in due time.

One of the pilots of the shuttle unbuckled his seatbelt and approached the lounge area in which the trio were seated, "Vice Admiral, I would like to inform you that we are nearing our destination. It would be appreciated if you prepared for the landing, but before you do, the Chancellor relayed a message for me to tell you."

The Vice Admiral nodded grimly, "Go ahead." He reached forward and finished the rest of his mug of Caff, tasting increasingly bitter towards the bottom.

"The Chancellor would like to inform that he knows that you will defend the national security of the Dominion and the interests of its citizens in the strategic dialogue. As one of the best and most loyal military commanders that he has encountered, the Chancellor would like you to know that he has complete faith in your tactical abilities." The pilot replied in a neutral voice, "I would like to add, Vice Admiral, that as your pilot, I may have only known you briefly, but I have full confidence in your abilities as well."

The Vice Admiral looked up at the pilot and nodded, "Thank you." The Vice Admiral, Azaliah, and Cain proceeded to prepare for the landing of the shuttle. Cain briefly stood up to inform his security personnel to prepare for the landing before putting his helmet on and strapping himself into his seat. The shuttle descended into the planet's atmosphere and guided itself gracefully towards the designated facility. Finally, the thud of the shuttle's body hitting the surface of the landing bay hit the trio and they looked at one another. As the landing was completed, the security detail's belts clicked off, even as the Vice Admiral and Azaliah let theirs remain done for an additional moment.

The Vice Admiral stood up and held his hand to Cain's chest, insisting that he would lead the team into the facility by the pure hand gesture alone. Azaliah was to stay in the ship, along with the pilots and a small detachment of the security team. On the surface, the Vice Admiral retained his notorious stern expression that he practiced on the ship, but under the surface the anxiety was killing him as he hesitated about giving the order to the pilots to open the shuttle door. Part of him wanted to order the team to strap back in and the pilots to take them back to the ship, but it was too late for any second thoughts. He held up his right hand and one of the security detail walked to the pilots and informed them of the order.

The door hissed open in the station and the group trickled out, led by the Vice Admiral. The ground landing spot they had been offered was alien, but not unwelcoming, and the Vice Admiral relaxed for a moment. As they stepped out of the shuttle and their steps clanged against the metal floor, they made eye contact with the Prole delegation that had received them. The Vice Admiral followed their hand gestures guiding them to the tram, though a certain anxiety lingered within him. Cain walked behind him, but remained at his side. That was Cain's nature, underneath the gruffness he showed to his men and the joviality he showed in his meetings with his fellow officers, there was a deep sense of duty, cultivate by his decades of service for the Dominion. If there were a perfect place for Cain in the galaxy, it was with the Exploration Fleets. The door to the tram hissed open and the Dominion security personnel made silent glances to those of the Confederation men that flanked the doors before stepping inside.

Then came the images. A flaming banner appeared; Solomon assumed that it belonged to the nation. The setting was like one of the videos he watched in history class of the time before humanity developed space exploration. The firing of muskets- the last time he had seen one of those was in his university civics lecture. Then the frames flowed into a modern depiction of an ornately-decorated head of state figure and a keen advisor at his side.

Dialogue ensued, the Vice Admiral could see that they were discussing a battle. A grave battle, it seemed. They discussed whether to draft the men in the factories and then to draft the women and children. The Vice Admiral felt a pang of sympathy, knowing the own struggles of war that the Dominion had gone through to establish its borders and defend its security, but it couldn't be seen in his facial expression, which remained stern.

The video then turned to a song; he assumed that it was a national anthem or a patriotic song, as was common in the Dominion. As the song played, the accomplishments of the nation appeared, one after the other. Liberation of this planet, victory on this moon, peace treaty on this asteroid, and dozens of scientific discoveries. The Vice Admiral, though impressed and sympathetic, remained stern. He was here to represent the interests of the Dominion, as delegated to him by the Office of the Chancellor. He would not let private sympathies cloud his obligation to the citizens of the Dominion.

The Vice Admiral flashed a glance to Cain, who was sitting behind him. He could feel Cain's cold stare drilling into his neck as he watched the list continue go on- curing of this disease, ending this famine, and peacefully resolving this civil war. Though he felt a pang of sympathy listening to the lyrics of the song, God knows how much the Dominion had sacrificed to free its neighbors from the clutches of authoritarian rule and xenocide by other species, but he did not let these cloud his skepticism.

The Vice Admiral felt the tram slow down and finally come to a halt and prepared himself for the hiss of the doors.

[Doppio Giudici]

Pvuk-Yur Solar System, Masunk' Planet
Prime Installation

"Hello, welcome to the Prole Confederation!" The Intercom played, a gruff and almost metallic sounding voice said "This is a recording by Richard, who reigns over the second of the five nations that make up the confederation. I would like to give you some quick tips about customs and manners among Vadians, who I lead, or the people of Pentaga Giudici, who are are made up of the same people with a different goverment."

An image of an old man sitting in a comfortable chair was shown, with dozens of screens around him, along with many, many wires running into his body. IVs ran into him and through him, large sections of his body were completely covered up by a series of synthetic fibers. His beard and fair was a silvery color, and his eyes were shut. He looked like he was sleeping. A screen above him read out his words in several languages, exactly as he said them.

"Illumiens, that is us, are very hot and cold people. We may seem unstable at times, but that is just us going from very trusting to very paranoid based on new information. Diplomats are likely to go from smiling to frowning in the same minute during whatever interactions you have with them. Other things too note, grasping of the front limb-ends and moving the front limp up and down is standard procedure for saying hello to new people."

The eyes opened quickly and stared forward, a bright light like a star glowing out of them.

"It is standard practice to be armed at all times, whenever possible." His voice went on "If you are not carrying some kind of firearm, you likely will be offered one. On top of that it's standard practice to offer firearm capable of being fired with one hand as a gift between leaders."

His eyes then shut and his body breathed in deeply, as his brow narrowed.

"If you haven't noticed it yet, Illumiens put their focus on their people and others, to the extent of very unhealthy practices." The Intercom played "A good example of this is me, who refuses to let death take him, to let his mind only think one thought at a time, or let himself only be in one place. If you are in first or second system, I am likely right with you or am about to be. If you are in our third system, I am not there, but I will be once we get that sorted out."

The image cut to an image of light infantry, with rippled veins, brown hair, and various colors of eyes. Several men and women, clutching various carbines and disposable rockets, some with their goggles up or down.

"These are the Kinful. They are orphans, who are the by products of a crime against bodily sovereignty. They are fiercely loyal to the state, to each other, and to me. My compounding investments inherited from the previous father fund a large private army of commandos, made of the most unfortunate souls. Kinful are very cheerful and welcoming people, preferring to be in groups at all times, to the extent that those who are having children now have more then two on average."

An image of a grey-skinned human with his arms crossed, and a fierce scar across his face. A proud and confident stance, was what he choose to show.

"This is a person of the Aleckandor people, who are number four of the five nations. Aleckandors are products of the mistreatment and enslavement of their people for what is best described as a "a truly revolting" time. They are grey purely from the smog and toil of their former lives, along with their generations of urban living after their liberation."

A wide range of different people were shown, many of them clutching weapons or wearing simple suits, almost all of them wearing khakis.

"These are orphans, Beloved, Kinful refugees, and immigrants. Many of them have not known kindness or compassion until they entered the Prole Confederation or any of it's member states. Many of them have little in the way of family, are workaholics, and are very devoted to the rest of us. For the last three hundred years they are the most likely demographics to be commandos, politicians, business people, or priests. You likely will be meeting a room full of these people or at least a room half full of them."

The image cut to the banner of the Prole Confederation, with the two hands clasp upon it, as he the audio recording finished up.

"Hopefully this was of use to you, may your children and days be as numerous as you so desire.

The tram came to a stop a few minutes later, where a group of Kinful stood around. Some of them were eating, others were watching them at the ready, and still others were whispering jokes to one another. Either that or they were flirting, it was hard to tell at this distance, it might be jokes and flirting actually. One of them, a silver-haired male in the prime of his life, approached them and gestured them to follow him.

"I see you decided to not be rude and brought some firearms, how very kind of you!" He called out.

He lead them down a hallway and past many other Kinful minding their own, some watching them as per procedure. The carpet was a soft blue color, and the ceiling was high enough so that almost no people would ever hit their heads on it, despite record breaking heights. The women as before were very ripped, and some people were taking turns picking each other up to stay in shape. Their state was somewhere between ready and paranoid, and completely ignoring the passing group as they had fun. Finally, their guide lead them to two doors that opened instantly and then held themselves open when he tapped the side of the opening three times.

"Go ahead in, try not to bring more then ten people inside, the room only fits five people on each side standing up comfortably." He said.

Yoshua, Simon, and his excited wife all crossed their arms across their chest in the diagonal salute, before coming forward to shake hands. They introduced themselves, smiled, and then took their seats at the table for seven. Each of them had their ear-piece in and a guard over their mouths, so that they could speak normally, before a piece of software would play their voices for the correct words. Each of them made hundreds of sounds much earlier, so that the software could play any sounds the human body could make out of it's mouth. Before they sat down of course, Joshua opened each of the containers of macaroni, cheese and diced tuna. The table was covered in wines, french breads, crackers, cheese crackers, waters, energy drinks, and punches. Plates, cups, spoons, and such were all around the area, with devices programmed to scan what was on the table and describe it in the proper language. Each device was programmed to say what it did, as soon as it was picked up.

[Principality of Zundrbar]

The Vice Admiral, Cain, and the security detail stepped out of the tram and were greeted by a silver-haired man. Solomon reached down and patted his assault rifle, "We're glad you didn't take any offense," he replied, "Thank you for the warm welcome." Though he relaxed his facial expression, his tone still came off in its default coldness, "We have great respect for your nation and its many peoples."

So far, so good, the Vice Admiral thought to himself. The Vice Admiral took a quick glance at a few of the females testing one another's strength and hid his disgust behind a neutral expression. Like most citizens of the Dominion, both genders serving in combat roles was a deeply unnerving thought that ran against their social beliefs. Though he valued Azaliah's presence and the well-staffed mostly-female Medical Corps, the Vice Admiral always preferred the company of Cain to anyone else. Though perhaps that was just Cain.

He carried on and wiped the thoughts from his head as he watched the gray-haired man open the doors with a series of knocks. "Of course," the Vice Admiral replied, lifting his hand and ordering two of the security detail to remain outside. Cain advanced to the Vice Admiral's side and the three remaining security personnel stood behind them in a single row, hands at their sides and standing up straight. Cain and Solomon introduced themselves and shook hands with the foreign delegation, but the others remained silent as the pair sat down.

Looking at the food offered to them, the pair smiled and accepted the gesture, but not before clasping their hands and saying a silent prayer. After the prayer, Cain took his helmet off as Solomon took some of the cheesecrackers, before looking up to the delegation.

"Before beginning our strategic dialogue," Cain began, "We would like to apologize for trespassing in your backyard, so to speak." The Vice Admiral was surprised at Cain's surprisingly diplomatic tone, but attributed it to his unwavering loyalty to the Dominion, "Our prior sensors had not detected your presence."

The Vice Admiral continued, "We would like to express our thanks for these refreshments and your warm welcome. We're glad that we are not the only ones in the galaxy interested in diplomacy," he said with a smirk and a slight chuckle, "So, shall we get down to business?"

[Hobbeebia]

Hobbeebian Imperium Unified Armed Forces Exploration Vessel Triumphant Vision.
- On approach to Pvuk-Yur Star system- System designate Halious


Life within the exploration vessel was at time boring. A monotonous blend of sleeping, eating, work and the occasional bit of who's sleeping with whom gossip. At other times it was almost more exciting than being involved in a naval campaign. Discovering new things, new people, new cultures; all the things that would make a scientist giddy with excitement. For one scientist in particular this was the case. Her name is Shalya' Ka-Ra, a female Eborian researcher who specialized in the research and communication with newly discovered peoples and star-states. As per her normal routine she was awoken for her shift by the calm buzz of her bedding that slowly grew with intensity until she got up. Her eyes still heavy with sleepiness, her mind struggling to function until she got into the shower. its warmth and wetness a sharp contrast to the normal cold, dryness of the ship gave her a jump start, breathing life into her tired body. AS she let the water run over her head and down her body letting it touch every curve of her feminine figure she let her mind wonder into thought only to be snapped back to reality as a message came to her via neural P.M.

"Pardon the intrusion ma'am, but we have some readings from the Pvuk-Yur system that need your review. Captain Dauski has already charted a course and is waiting for your judgement before making way to that system."

The non-descript officer behind the message was gone before she could respond. Which soon turned into a frustrated heavy sigh.

Soon enough she was out of the shower, fully dressed and making her way to the bridge's CIC. As she entered she was still trying to dry her long hair by fluffing it in her hands.

"Captain! I hear you got something interesting for me to look at?" her face contorting as she got a finger stuck in a tangle.

The Captain smiled shaking his head before passing the hardlight datapad her way. As she touched it her mind was flooded with the information, her eyes twitched swiftly as the download finished. Her recommendation was equally as swift.


"Begin transit Captain. Somethings going on and I want to know what." her face stern but with a twinkle in her eye. The Captain was more than happy to oblige.

"All hands prepare for transit jump!" AS quickly as the order was given the ship vanished into the void making her way to the system.

[Doppio Giudici]

Pvuk-Yur Solar System, Masunk' Planet
Prime Installation

"This isn't a backyard." Anaiah's mouth-piece replied in her voice "This is a um, it's more of a seasonal vacation home. We don't care too much if people pass by, so long as they don't head further into our territory or towards this planet."

"The food is a obvious attempt to fatten you up and get you to sign some contracts while you are about to pass out." Simon added, before continuing after a long pause. "That was not serious, I was mostly joking. But to be serious, please do eat the food and associate any positive feelings about it with us, we did make it after all."

His wife had laughed uncontrollably during the pause, which gave away that it was a joke. Simon looked over at Anaiah, their eyes meeting for several moments. He then rubbed his temples and his mouth piece refused to translate what he said. The Vice-Governor pulled out her screen and jammed it into a slot in the table, which activated a projector just above them. It showed the locations of the two systems thy controlled and their home planet, in its own system. Nidus, the birth-world was unclaimed and covered in different colors. The moons, other planets, and a few other systems around this area were also claimed.

"This entire area is fairly densely populated and/or well protected." Anaiah went on, watching each planet and moon in their slow orbits. "Different claims right next to each other, dozens of claims on the same sphere. All in all, most of this territory would take years, if not decades to work out an agreement with all the people who are invested into it. The only things that claimed up and down are our two colony systems, which we control outright."

Simon moved his body forward and rested it on the table, watching everyone. He closed his eyes and opened them, this time the areas around the pupils were a marigold-orange color. His eyes looked over every detail of their faces, as if inspecting them for something or trying to memorize them perfectly. His gaze then moved to the guards standing behind the guests, looking them over as well.

"What exactly is it that you are in need enough, to be here exactly?" Anaiah asked, watching the Vice-Admiral. "The price of shipping has been really going down lately, but I suppose you have your own markets to protect. For us, our supplies lately have been stockpiled in ore in lighter and heavier elements, a fair supply of hydrogen gas for cold-fusion, surplus food, naval vessels, and such mainstays of many economies. We aren't as specialized as we used to be, right now our economy is fairly balanced, if mostly state-owned."

Simon stood up and walked past her, drawing her eyes for a second. He opened the door to the outside of the meeting, as she stopped talking. The Governor stepped out and looked around at those outside, before stepping back in. He stood there for a moment, seeming confused.

"We have a diplomat, a hardened soldier, and yet no corporate shill or xenophobic politician." Simon stated, before moving back to his seat, as his eyes went back to hazel. "There is always some kind of problem-person who comes along for these things... Oh shit, are they breaking into the installation?"

He got up and started tapping away at a device he had in his pocket, along with the table as well.

"Huh." Anaiah noted, looking at him. "He is right, most of our meetings with other cultures involve someone trying to ruin the meeting and/or push their agenda. Are you sure these are honest people?"

"I don't detect any dishonesty, they seem paranoid and uncomfortable, but that is expected." Simon replied, tapping away in fear.

[Principality of Zundrbar]

The Admiral and Captain exchanged an uneasy smile at Simon's joke, before listening intently to the details of Anaiah's description of the system. Though the Admiral worked hard to keep his normal gruff look, the Captain had a stern look on his face. He understood his duty just as much as the Admiral understood his own. Just ready to give a stern reply to Anaiah's question, his visage softened to a jovial smile, not unlike one he would give the Admiral back on deck.

"We appreciate the compliment," Cain began, "And we are honored to be in the presence of such gracious hosts. I've been all over the neighborhood and, I have to say, this isn't how I've seen interstellar interactions firsthand," he grinned and chuckled after finishing his sentence. "In truth, we were interested in mapping the system for our own merchants, but evidently things have become a lot more easier with you having done all the hard work of exploration for us."

With the mention of the mission's motivation, the Admiral instantly flashed back to his memory of Lucius Levi. In the absence of the Captain and Presidency, the only thing standing in the way of his agenda was Azaliah. Looking over, he noticed Cain had just turned to him and he continued where Cain left off, "I don't think it'll take a guy like me to tell that most, if not all civilized life in the galaxy is based on trade. Commerce is the lifeblood of our Dominion, just as important as the strength of our Armed Forces and the integrity of our moral foundations."

Listening to Anaiah's response, the pair exchanged a strange glance after the mention of "state-owned" economies, prior to Anaiah and Simon getting up. Cain and Judah held their glances for about thirty seconds, before Cain pierced the ceiling, "You mind if I grab a smoke?"

[Doppio Giudici]

Pvuk-Yur Solar System, Masunk' Planet
Prime Installation

"Smoking is illegal here, but we can make an exception for you if I can..." Simon replied, before stopping to rub his chin and think, "I guess you could try the private bathroom for this meeting, the door is right behind me, connected to our kitchen. Be sure to spray some cleanser around and then turn the fan on when you are done. The only people who still smoke are the Aleckandors, but this they aren't located anywhere but Nidus right now."

Anaiah reached over and rubbed his arm, as he turned towards the table and quietly fed himself a half a handful of crackers at a time. His grey hair ran down his face and he was careful to not get crumbs in his thick beard.

"The Illumiens and Aleckandors are people who look to each other and themselves for survival, they can't depend on anyone else. "Anaiah explained, still rubbing at her husbands arm, "Since the goverment companies don't care about profit, they can operate on low profit margins and hire more people. On top of that they can be founded by or filled with people who have top secret clearance, which means it's easy for them to just advertise how many war-heroes work for them. Then you have the political figures, many of whom are ex-military or corporate themselves, who know that more employees means more status and respect for them. In other words, the goverment companies spend profit on a better product and have a much better image, so they make more sales. The laws of the free-market make them more competitive."

"Oh yeah." Simon jumped in, having just swallowed, "State companies aren't allowed to make a gross profit and their shares are mostly owned by the people, so there is no need to quit working there if you become a political figure. I myself am on the board of at least a few state companies here on Masunk', including the translation software we are using, which I appear in the advertisements for."

"Excuse me, I don't normally say much during these meetings, "Yoshua explained, "But I noticed that our guests are likely from a strong mixed economy, with strong capitalistic undertones. They might be panicking because they think we are uh, what was the word, communists?"

[Principality of Zundrbar]

Cain's eyebrows flattened, but he nodded, "Thank you," he said quietly before rising and walking to the smoking area, cigarette in hand. The Vice Admiral followed him with his eyes before he slipped out of the room and out of sight and then returned his gaze to the representatives.

"Though we in the Dominion believe in a corporation's right to turn a profit, our society is more complicated to be boiled down into economic terms" the Vice Admiral began. "Citizenship in the Dominion is guaranteed by military service, maintaining the social fabric. We trust our elected representatives and institutions, similarly staffed with ex-military personnel, to guide our nation and defend our freedoms. Our nation was forged in the fires of revolution against tyranny, xenocide, and oppression and our experience has taught us to never appease our enemies or compromise on our values." As he spoke, the Vice Admiral could feel a sense of pride within himself, "We never take our freedom for granted," he added before taking a sip of hot tea he had poured for himself.

"That being said, I am very interested in hearing more about your proud nation," the Vice Admiral declared with respect in his voice, "I believe we have more in common than one may spot at first glance."

[Doppio Giudici]

"Well." Simon started, taking a sip of water before continuing. "The only path we have had available to us, is to make our leaders at the mercy of the people and the people at the mercy of their own conscience."

He narrowed his brow and looked at the table, as if remembering something or deep in thought.

"Not that we really had to try to make that the case." The Governor went on, pulling down his white, cotton shirt for several moments, exposing a vivid blue tattoo of what looked like an oval. "This is what we call a 'chest-sign', all men are born with them, as a mark of 'The Promise'. Our veins run the virus through our blood and it's passed down generations, able to be injected or inhaled, growing within a reddish root we simply call 'The Root'. While the virus bonds us all at least a little by the soul and mind, there is also the consequences of being a blue, and being a political figure with no combat experience."

Simon crossed his arms and looked away from the table, clearly uncomfortable, sweat running down his brow. Anaiah got up and nudged him aside, before sitting with him, his chair already designed to hold two people and given no arm rests. She wrapped an arm around him tucked herself under his right arm, watching him.

"Reds have shame, blacks are numb, greens are lost, and blues are overly empathetic." Simon admitted, staring off at the wall. "The refugee crisis is tearing at me, and since everything has been perfect all my life, I am not prepared in any way for the emotional pain. The tradition simply became that leaders must have known war, so that they are too traumatized by their lost men, to send more to die over something foolish. There isn't that many wars now, so... the politicians take this injection and undergo... reeducation. When I won the election... They gave it too me... and now I have the strangest nightmares... It's almost like I really had gone to war and lost hundreds of people in front of me..."

"Which is specifically why he was elected." Anaiah explained, looking over at their guests, "Because my husband is a very compassionate and kind soul, who has increasingly been anxious to do as the people require and to protect them at all costs. Such self-destructive behavior would ruin lesser men, and greater men have lost it without a fitting equal to keep them steady. I am the Yin to his Yang, I do not worry, I do not care what people think of me, I am at peace. The only person I care about appeasing is my husband and my children, I don't need my people to like me for me to do what is best for them. For thousands of years, it is spouses like me that have been the bedrock of our heroic men and women, who martyr themselves for 'The Cause'."

"Yoshua, tell them what we want." Simon ordered.

Yoshua nodded and rested his head on his interlocked hands, his elbows rested on the table. He looked the Vice-Admiral straight in the eyes and spoke.

"We want the refugees." Yoshua insisted, pointing down at the table in a rhythmic tic, "We could expand further or exploit the rocks here, but our societies largest goal right now is those refugees. The stars, trade, alliances, diplomacy, threats, and war will all just be a means to obtaining the refugees. We are prepared to go to war against that Nussa Accord or whatever they want to call it now, that is pushing into Beta and gobbling up the blessed refugees we so desire. We already have woken up our most violent and barbaric prisoners for this operation, including readying our stockpile of superweapons, hiring millions of the most violent mercenaries we can find, and preparing our Confederation with one more massive training operation, before we begin a process of total war. We will wage war like a zealot, we will fight as if to regain our holy land, and we will do what we feel is necessary to win."

He looked over at the area that the officer had gone and stood up a little to see if he was coming back, before sitting back down.

"So, if you are in on that accord thing, you should get out of it now or cough up at least some of your refugees and try to negotiate." Yoshua advised "If you are anywhere near them or in the space between them or us, that is your warning. If you don't want to get involved, now is a good time to work to not be caught in the crossfire. We already have began bribing forces we barely understand for this and frankly we know that we could very well be destroyed in this war-making process. I can't lie to you and tell you that this isn't something I waited my entire life for, that every fiber of my being burns to achieve."

[Principality of Zundrbar]

The Vice Admiral remained silent and neutral as he listened to the talk of chest-signs and emotions. He had always looked down upon the New Age cults in the Dominion that were thankfully isolated and shunned by the general public. Boy would they have a field day if they found out about this, he thought to himself before shifting his attention to Yoshua.

Yoshua’s deep stare into his eyes made him uncomfortable and the talk of a dramatic arms buildup for some “refugees” wasn’t helping. The Vice Admiral swallowed hard as he listened and thought of what the Chancellor would do if he were in his situation. He had met the Chancellor once, when he was still in University and when Chancellor Rumsfeld was just CEO Rumsfeld. A tough-talking, no-nonsense arms manufacturer with a passion for interstellar relations. After Rumsfeld had finished his lecture, he remembered that a student had asked some question about the interstellar impact of Rumsfeld’s suggested crackdown on non-human species in the Dominion.

Sanity is for courts of law; Geopolitics isn't supposed to make sense. The quote had never affected him much in his decades of service in the Fleet, but listening to some non-human rant about refugees with a passion he’d never seen before, not even in the Chancellor, was empirical evidence for this.

“I can assure you all that the Dominion does not have anything to do with this Nussa Accord and we certainly are not harboring any refugees that you desire.” He cleared his throat, “We primarily have stuck to our neighborhood in the Beta Quadrant and have rarely been approached for interstellar alliances, like this Accord. We’re not too game on accepting anyone into our society either; immigration into the Dominion is quite the headache, even for fellow humans.”

He took a sip of water, “With that being said, tell me more about these refugees and why are they so significant?”

[Doppio Giudici]

Yoshua stared ahead at him, unable to think of a reply. It was a complicated question with multiple answers, something that billions wanted but never asked why. The media barely talked about it before the protests and social movements started. There was this firey anger, that spread well, like wildfire.

"Around a hundred and thirty years ago, we climbed out of our shelled and nuked motherland." Simon explained, leaning on the table and trying to remember his studies, "We had been so unaware of the world, because we had been stuck on this landmass away from our birth-land and unable to launch anything into space to look around. We had been surrounded on all sides, waging wars of defense and finally retaliation, for almost a millennium. Naturally we licked our wounds, did a counter-coup to remove some baron who tried to seize power, dealt with a cult uprising, and finally established a colony. Blah blah blah, colony revolted, two sides came to peace, neighbooring nation of no longer colony had a civil-war, we made some international alliances, and we reconquered our sacred birthland."

He stared at cealing and went over his masters degree, remembering some class or book he read.

"We no longer were bickering, we didn't have to worry about our borders, and we had our sacred birthland." Simon added, "According to historians there was this period of calm and silence, but we started to get foreign news. The world was full of injustice... And suffering.... Exactly like ours had been. There was whispers and talk, sites were made online, this buildup of emotion. One afternoon, everyone got home from work, took one look at the news and immediently took to the streets. The radio stations played repeated messages telling parents to isolate themselves from what was going on, because children can be shaped for life by what they hear and see. A mass rally formed at both capitols, any major site really, and the people demanded war. Traffic was terrible, for the most part no damages were done, but the people were very loud. It was a matter of time till they demanded an instant election or started blockading federal buildings."

Simon ran his heads through his hair and rubbed his face, trying to put the peices together.

The motherland, Vadia, was ruled by an Emperor known as Peter." Simon went on, "Pentaga Giudici, then Doppio Giudici, was the former colony. It was ruled by its founder, Seth, a war hero of the two nuclear 'Han Wars'. Both leaders knew each other personally, the later having raised the former. Both of them were orphans, both of them had lost many many people they loved to wars and the coup they had countered. Both of them were depressed, single, and Seth was a weed-smoking alcoholic who spent all his time at work. He picked up his habits up during the wars, which started when he was 18."

Simon rested his hands on his cheeks and sighed loudly, before looking at his guests.

"This is a bit of a repeat." Simon admitted, "We dot experience enough hardship to distract us, our people live very comfortable lives, it's been years since anyone could call themselves 'poor'. The leadership has injected themselves with something that more or less tramatizes them, our orphaned Kinful and Beloved are rising through the ranks, and the people sit in their houses pulling at their hair about the goings and happenings of the Quadrent. Sleeping disorders, tempers, and clinical depression are at a higher haven't seen in a long time. The music, the Internet, even gossip is just people being reminded by others how upset they are."

Anaiah held her hand out and gently tapped her husbands nose. He looked at her and gestured towards the guess with both hands. His wife smiled and turned over to face them.

"I personally don't believe this." Anaiah clarified, "But there is this overwhelming feeling in those around me, that life is meaningless. They say life is too good, it's too sweet, it's like a dream and they are tired of it. They point to their ansestors and say they should be like them, they should struggle like them. That attitude is why we went to the stars, because its hard and it needs to be done. The refugees must be looked out for. The Enlightened One, our one and only God, has asked for it. The war will be hard, that is what the people feel, it will be a struggle that will ease their shame and allow them to stand on equal level to the heroes of the past. I personally agree that our lives are charmed, I agree they are too easy. We have more emotional and physical suffering to be had doing nothing, then to go to war. We do nothing and people will lose it. There will be more and more protests, perhaps a revolution, and while this happens their health will suffer and the suicide rate will sky rocket."

She crossed her arms and held herself close, before Simon wrapped his arms around her.

"We had the same choices we had the last two thousand years." Anaiah affirmed, "Conflict or Destruction, and destruction isn't really a choice. So, the reality is there is no choice to make. War is all we know, and its the only thing we are good at. We can't communicate, we can't be understood, trade is devoid of much meaning, our art has always been about the struggle, our religion is about the struggle and all our sports are based on defense and retaliation."

She sat up on her knees and pushed herself over the table, her body clothed modestly to prevent awkwardness, as she held herself up on her arms alone.

"Here is a secret." Anaiah stated, "We don't understand why people's have aligned themsleves with us, without emotionals and drama. However, and I must stress this, the same soul-curning empathy we feel for the downtrodden is also felt for all brothers and sisters, the Veridi and Alexkandors. The same willingness to die, to sacrifice the self for another, is given to all close allies. If you can handle the rhetoric, the informality, the craziness; they maybe you can have our people by your side. We are serious people, when we say ride or die, we mean that we will defend and protect to the death."

She pulled herself back to the seat she was in and padded herself down.

"Go." She ordered "You need a break from us, so go back to your ship and think this over, or leave, or stay here in our hotels, but this meeting is over for today. Take some wine, take some energy drinks, take some bread and can we goods. Take it and go recover."

She got out of her hair and reaches into her clothing to rest a small concealable handgun on the table, followed by the holster. The woman looked right at the vice-admiral.

"Take this, it is my personal sidearm." Anaiah ordered, "Do not return it, you have to take this. Carry it yourself, give it to your wife or husband, perhaps to your children. Give it as a gift you may, but use it you must."

Anaiah went back to her seat and repeated herself.

"Im not making sense, just go and recover." She sighed out, before curling up to her husband.

[Principality of Zundrbar]

The Vice Admiral sipped from his glass of water as he listened to their talk of struggle and injustice. The words of the nation's founder, Alexander Lieberman, ringed in his head, Until all men are free. The nations had more in common than he was willing to admit, which was what scared him.

"We respect your nation's strong heritage and inner brotherhood. Thank you for your wonderful hospitality and I foresee a future of cooperation between our two nations. God bless the Confederation," the Vice Admiral said as the private security officers advanced to take the gifts back with them. "I look forward to a future dialogue," he said grinning, "It's our turn to host."

He looked up and saw Cain come out from behind, having finished his smoke. Cain looked at the gifts and looked over at the Confederation representatives and nodded, "Thank you for your hospitality," he said, extended a hand, "It was a pleasure to be in your nation." Cain and the Vice admiral walked out, followed behind by the security team, as they headed towards the shuttle. They passed through the train once again and walked in complete silence until they reached the shuttle. The security officers outside greeted them and packed away the gifts as Cain and the Vice Admiral regrouped.

"So, did I miss anything important?" Cain asked, as the shuttle's engine started up, "Any ground-breaking geopolitical or commercial ties developed yet?" Cain asked, as he lit another cigarette, "If these gifts are any indication, I'd say that you did a pretty good job for your first diplomacy operation."

"Let's be honest here, Cain, you're the one who deserves credit for not ordering the security team to mow them down for not having a smoking cabin," the Vice Admiral sipped a glass of whiskey, "You did miss more than I would've wanted you to miss, but I'll give you a summary. Once you left they started opening up about their society."

"Are they as hippy as I said they'd be?" Cain said, smirking as he let out a puff of smoke, "I hope those gift baskets weren't emblems of friendship from the commune."

The Vice Admiral shook his head, "They weren't actually," he paused for a sip of whiskey, "But that's what scares me about them. They're like nothing we've ever seen in the Dominion before, at least not for a while."

"What do you mean?" Cain said, the joy leaving his face and a dead-serious look in his eyes.

"They talked a lot about empathy. I didn't get what they were saying at first, but it made sense by the end of it. They're on the hunt for these 'refugees,' they called them- their history had a bunch of terrible conflicts and now they've got a hard-on for stopping 'injustice."

"You're scared of a bunch of humanitarians?"

"I'm scared of a bunch of humanitarians with a knack for kicking ass and taking names," the Vice Admiral said, "They aren't to be trifled with. They're expansionists and they're on the hunt for a 'Nussa Accord' that seems to have a lot of these refugees. He said they've preparing an army that sounded like nothing I've heard before."

"I'm sure they were just trying to establish common ground," Cain said letting out a puff of smoke, "I'm sure they know how the Dominion operates."

The Vice Admiral sighed, "The Dominion is one system. We've had our fair share of wars and we've done a decent job building a Fleet and an Army. But these guys- it's like their whole society revolves around war, even more so than ours, and on top of that it sounds like they're much bigger than we are. I think we should hear them out on this Accord nonsense."

"What did you say they called it? 'Injustice.' That's a helluva broad term, with all due respect. That can refer to US, need I remind you," Cain replied. The environment in the shuttle was tense.

"I think you understand what I'm trying to say."