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Year 0, Age of Possibility, Mid July; Terran Calendar 2977
Daiban, Governmental District Space Dock, Z.I.V. Arrow
HQ: Attention Operative, you've received new orders along with a schematic for another message, initiate contact with local sovereign(s) ASAP and arrange for receipt of proper diplomatic envoys. Operative: Understood, any further advice or directives? HQ: The Emperor has said quote: "Don't fuck up" Operative: Assuming colloquialism/saying, will do best.
Daiban, Office of the Secretary of Foreign Relations and Contact Oversights
Seeker strode down the hallway with purpose as he clutched a pair of etched composite tablets with a grip that'd shatter glass, he'd printed off an extra copy for added redundancy on top of a (better than) iron grip. The message would get to it's destination, or he'd go mad trying. So far there was little to no resistance, security was present and watchful but this was only the outermost perimeter. Standing before the door to the arbiter's chambers, he waits a couple moments, psyching himself up and muttering a short prayer. Opening the door and stepping within, he utters one of the single most important phrases in his decently lengthy existence. "Excuse me, Scribe, would it be permissible to set up a meeting/appointment with your sovereign, this one bears a message and request on behalf of the Zaran Empire and it's sister state the Republic of the Scale. If such a meeting is impossible this one asks that one or both of these messages, they're identical, be delivered to said sovereign for review and response. It is of the utmost importance to the future of civilization that dialogue be made in a genial manner."
With that out of the way, Seeker then set the rather hefty tablets upon the desk for inspection and moved on to slightly lighter topics. "This one is Voyager Operative 274, Individual Name Lore Seeker, it is pleased to make your acquaintance... How has your day been?"
------------------------------------------------- Zaran Space, Core Sector, Imperial Space Station Law
The Emperor paced within the control center for Operation Voyager as he went over the list of individuals he'd received from the Silver Tongues over in Public Relations, he'd need to get an official Office of International Relations up and running soon but for now PR was the closest thing. The list looked good, specialists in their field, all of them. The psychologist got a metaphorical eyebrow, but he could see the merit of including him, they needed to not screw up. Unfortunately for the emperor's "nerves", there wasn't anything that could be done on this end, nothing but waiting. At least they'd know if/when the vessel was destroyed in the worst case scenario, that'd give them a few weeks to prepare on top of the fact that any adversary would lack knowledge of their location.
The Alphinian clerk raised a brow as the two slabs were laid on his desk with a thud. Had this… It wasn't a cyborg in the usual sense, and while it resembled a Machine Man, it spoke in monotone and dispassionate patterns. Was it...a mechanoid?
And calling him a 'scribe'? Asking to see the 'sovereign'? What was even this 'Zaran Empire' and 'the Republic of the Scale'? Was this thing asking to see the Chairman of the Federation?
Black eyes looked over the tablets. Some kind of composite material, it looked like. The message had been laser etched or even printed in duplicate on the two slabs. A brow again as he returned his gaze to the machine...man. "Voyager Operative?" The clerk carefully repeated as he stood up and began looking for any sign of security, just in case. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with this 'Zaran Empire'...are you a first contact scouting drone, then?"
It wasn't the first time a civilization used mechanoid drones as messengers of first contact, usually due to unreliable faster than light velocity methods, caution as to exposing their home systems, or just simple logistics. Which, if this was the case, then Secretary Luma Su was definitely the one to manage this. "The Secretary of Foriegn Relations and Contact Oversight is sadly not in at this time, but I will make sure she receives your message and speaks with the Chairman on the matter."
This was suboptimal, Seeker supposed that it must be some extra layers of security in place to ensure that assassins couldn't get in by masquerading as diplomats/messengers, smart. Unfortunately, the Imperial was unfamiliar with the ways of bureaucracy, all he could do was wait and cooperate as much as possible.
"This one was among 1000 other volunteers sent out from the Holy Land to survey the galaxy and seek out other civilizations, all data was sent back via currently classified means, it was the first one to encounter intelligent life and has spent the last some months collecting information so as to make a successful 'First Contact' go smoothly. This one shall wait for any necessary arrangements to be made on your end, would you happen to have anything for it to assist with or shall it resort to clocking down?"
He'd not be leaving until his objective was achieved, but he could at least make his presence as unobtrusive/useful as possible. If there wasn't anything to do, he'd just have to go sit down and throttle back his processing, it wouldn't do to go mad from idleness... that'd likely qualify as 'Fucking Up'. A question came to his mind, he had seen Humans and Elves out here, but no Dwarves, Gnomes, or others... was it convergent evolution, or were Humans and Elves descended from aliens? Something he'd need to ask about later, he doubted that a scribe would have been interested in such things, he himself wasn't much interested in politics... leave that to the professionals.
A thousand 'volunteers'. Contact drones, then. What kind of stellar civilization use the term 'Holy Land' outside of parable and analogy, though? It was enough to make the Alphinian squint at the machine, especially when it made no motion to leave. "I assume 'clocking down' means a standby state. Unfortunately for you…'Lore Seeker'...we cannot have you remain in this office to wait. However, I assure you that your message will be forwarded to Secretary Luma Su as soon as she returns. Her schedule indicates that she will be back in the capitol in fourteen days by Daiban standard rotation cycle."
Nevermind possible delays due to the current state of interstellar affairs, but it was likely that a contact outreach drone was either not aware of such, or that its home region also had come to odds with the Kromus.
The Scout came to a realization, the security up until this point was for naught but the occasional ruffian, this point here was the true test. Fourteen days was more than enough time for them to conduct thorough background checks, scans, observation, and the like to ensure that a potential threat could be easily neutralized. Returning to his ship seemed to be his only option at the moment, although he could go back to the enforcement outpost he had assisted in his first months here, that may improve his chances of being approved.
"Any messages bound for this one should be directed to the Z.I.V. Arrow in the Local Cosmodrome, it bids thee farewell."
With a bow, Seeker would then take his leave, nothing could be done at this time. He would keep an eye out for whatever surveillance equipment/personal was directed to monitor him, more out of curiosity and interest than paranoia, as long as he didn't do anything wrong he needn't worry. He just hoped he'd be able to stay occupied for the next two weeks.
---------------------------
Z.I.V. Arrow
Operative: Encountered additional security measures, mandatory wait time of 14 local rotations, likely under observation. Could go and assist local Law Keepers as medical auxiliary to build good-will, requesting confirmation of whether good idea or not. HQ: You're likely overthinking this 274, but it's better to be safe than sorry. Keep us Updated. Operative: Acknowledged
Clad in his full gear sans rifles and explosives, Seeker would set out again for the familiar public safety office, hoping to find some work to fill the coming days.
---------------------------
I.S.S. Law Comms Officer Daniel Arkannan leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh. At least 274 was enthusiastic about his modified mission, but if the spur-folk were indeed this paranoid then there'd likely be some serious issues coming in the future. Getting back to work, he'd file a report with his own thoughts added in to be sent off to the Diplomatic team, at least there'd be some more time to prepare.
Fortunately for the Lore Seeker, there was enough to keep it occupied in the time it took for Secretary Luma Su to return from her off planet duties. And for her to attend to fifteen other inquiries that may or may not have in fact been delivered after the Seeker's own.
In all, it was another eight days since her return to her offices that Secretary of Foriegn Relations and Contact Oversight Luma Su finally examined the heavy tablet messages of contact, and sent a detail to meet, transport, and deliver the Lore Seeker to a secured location for making First Contact arrangements.
As well as have a sizable armed squad of GFP's best to blow the machine's head off as a warning if it did attempt anything stupid.
22 Days of waiting, 22 days of preparation, one of downloading the pattern for proper ceremonial attire, one for fabrication and assembly. 18 days of working abroad, two spent getting directions and advice from headquarters. Fully clad in a gleaming white suit with a black underlay and crimson trim, topped with a matching officer's cap and adorned with multiple pins denoting service to The Founder, the Imperial scout would depart with but two things on his person; a book on Imperial History, and an ornamental saber. Seeker was ready for war, metaphorically.
The additional eight days beyond the original estimate for the security check was mildly worrying, but not unfathomable. The local attitude regarding fully autonomous machine intelligence seemed to be tainted by multiple conflicts with soulless simulacra gone berserk, something the Empire had avoided creating due to similar concerns. Sudden movements ought to be avoided, actions purposefully telegraphed, it wouldn't do to accidentally start a war because he saw a bit of lint on his pants and flicked it too quickly.
Two things would need to be decided in order to consider his mission achieved: Where, and When the actual professionals would meet, preferably as far from the home-world as possible whilst not requiring another 20 year trip... organics tended to not appreciate those. The Envoy was already en route to Vanguard, having left about a week ago, but they'd need to stay there until the rendezvous coordinates were decided upon.
The alphinian narrowed her eyes as the automaton approached. Rarely were first contact meetings conducted on Daiban, thought most times a drone was the method of first contact, it was more in the fashion of a probe unit, not an autonomous machine.
Two hundred years still left very fresh memories in a region of the last cybernetic civilization to "make contact" with the senti-sapient species of the Orion Spur.
"Lore Seeker, I presume." Luma Su made a sweeping gesture of her right hand to greet the machine being. "I am Luma Su, Secretary of Foreign Affairs and Contact Oversight in the Galactic Federation. I welcome you and the system you represent, and ask you do forgive, with understanding, our...heavy precautions." A pause as her face wrinkled for a moment. "Our collective region and the organic species within have not exactly been witness to the friendliest of circumstances with civilizations that use machines of seeming full sapience such as yourself."
The Imperial was mildly confused at the tall grey xenos' words, things were going far easier than he had expected, and there were fewer precautions than would be in place back home. He'd received several briefings and orders just prior to the meeting, mostly specifics regarding recent events back home and authorizations to share relevant information.
"You presume correctly, Secretary, this one is Lore Seeker. It speaks on behalf of The Zaran Empire and it's Protectorates for the purposes of arranging for the exchange of a proper diplomatic envoy, this one is a scientist and soldier, not a Silver Tongue. We already have a team assembled and en route to our closest system to your territory, but it would still take roughly a decade for them to arrive using only our own FTL engines, it is sure that you can see the issue there. We are willing to provide navigational data such that a rendezvous can be arranged."
He would pause for a moment, allowing that to process. Such a pause would also help with more closely approximating organic speech, because some people actually need to breathe. The GalFed official seemed to find something about "machines of seeming full sapience" displeasing, wouldn't hurt to try seeming a little more "natural".
"There's a few other issues that should at least be touched on. There are elements within Imperial territory that upon learning that there are other civilizations out there have decided to leave the empire. We would rather not keep such individuals around if foreign powers are willing to take them, to prevent their departure would likely lead to increased unrest. There's also the matter of potential commerce, this one doesn't know enough at this time to actually elaborate on that."
Hopefully, this straight-to-the-point approach wouldn't be found offensive, Seeker couldn't afford to go against the emperor's order and "fuck up".
Luma Su creased her brow upward in an expression of interest. A decade to reach Federation space? Curious indeed. Were the Zarans a civilization that had barely crossed the slipdrive thresholds? Certainly, they were interstellar if they had been able to send a contact drone of high quasi-sapience this far.
"Well, Lore Seeker. If coordinates can be provided for a secured safe location that is less strenuous for your peoples to meet an envoy of our own, arrangements can be made." A pause as she contemplated the issues of security that would be involved. "I assume you have some form of hyperburst or particle entanglement based communications for rapid contact with your home territories, so it would be wise to advise them that, due current conditions of war with the Kromus Pirates, the Federation would be sending an armed envoy and escorts." Again, she paused. "It is for your envoy's safety as much as ours. I've found your name and Hunter ID codes associated with a number of bounties on the Kromus and some survey marks in our service. I assume these conditions are understandable to you and those you speak for."
The Straightforward approach was working, that was one less potential fuck-up to deal with.
"This one was already provided with coordinates for an acceptable rendezvous point, the coordinates have already been translated to be relative to Daiban. Please understand that we are not yet sharing any of our territorial information. With regards to envoy escorts, their being armed was assumed to be a given, as unarmed escorts are... suboptimal. We ask that your people be ready for the rendezvous in approximately four weeks, but if you need more time we will delay accordingly."
----------- Rendezvous Point, 175 Light Years away from Zaran Space, 4 weeks later... Captain Baromont of the IPC Vanguard-10 looked at the console of his Command Chair, the time was nigh for him to be rid of the Silver Tongues; They were mentally stimulating to converse with, as courtesy dictates, but it was exhausting to deal with them all for a whole month. His cruiser, two accompanying destroyers, handful of corvettes, and auxiliary craft had swept the entire system over the past couple days, fortunately finding naught but the Gas Giant and handful of ice-balls that 274 had reported. A comet had been sacrificed to the cause, harvested for some fresh water that hadn't been shoved through the processors a dozen times, but not much else could be done in only a few days, they lacked the capacity to build any fortifications.
"Well, they should be getting here any time now, I'm sure you'll be grateful to be free of us, Captain?"
Baromont would turn to the sound of a shuffling exoskeleton and crackling dry papyrus-like voice of Jorlan, the ancient man looked like a skeleton, but his eyes still glittered with intelligence, the Captain had rather enjoyed the old man's stories, but would not at all miss the repeated beatdowns he had received in tactical simulations.
"Your presence was quite enjoyable, General, but I will admit to being rather exhausted by it as well. I hope, sir, that your skill in the simulators won't be sorely missed in times to come."
"Ho ho, yes, well, that's the whole point here. You already are aware tho-" But the elder would be interrupted by a series of alarms going off. "I guess the time has come, stay well Captain, we'll make for the shuttle."
The Diplomatic Team would board the shuttle without much ceremony, time was ticking.
the things that you might like don't grow inside of me
For everything he had done, everything he had experienced, everything he had known in his long, long life... this trip aboard the Vanguard was a first for Othokent. Yet, in many ways, it wasn't entirely unfamiliar.
He'd been aboard ships before. The seafaring kind, back when they had been made of wood and sails, constructed of the base materials one could find within a nearby forest, hewn into existence by the hands of man or whatever other race sought to build into the shapes desired... be it by tools or magic of the kind few could use now. And in many ways this trip was similar - the cramped space aboard the Vanguard certainly produced a misleading sense of familiarity, but that was really as far as it went. These halls did not smell of wood, damp nor dry, nor did they hold the same comforting warmth. They were of metal, and in many ways emblematic of what the Zaran Empire had become since its inception. But more than that... this was not the same as his prior experiences.
Beyond those walls there was not life, no waves or water or the creatures that lived therein. There was only emptiness - the black, unforgiving void of space. He had never left Mortuous Mundi after arriving from Toril. There had simply been no need for it. Much of that single world remained unexplored, and much of it untamed. There were a great many places to hide if one chose to and possessed the skills needed to survive. And unlike many within the Empire traveling to other worlds when they had gained the ability to break free of their home's gravity well had held no allure for him - he'd been to other worlds, other planes before. He'd seldom found it a pleasant experience. Nor, for that matter, this one - his first time leaving Mortuous Mundi since arriving on that world so long ago. Othokent knew that the ship was safe, that hundreds more like it moved through the inky darkness between the Empire's worlds, but it was disquieting in a way that earlier voyages millennia ago hadn't been. More than anything, he supposed, it was the knowledge of how thin the line was between life and death out here.
As well as the knowledge that he was stuck with a number of Zaran government officials in what had amounted to a glorified tin can with engines for a month.
While he had never liked the Empire all that much, dealing with them had been a necessary displeasure. Only as much as necessary, however, and for that reason Othokent had kept to himself for much of the voyage, only emerging from his cabin for meals and other necessities and returning at the first possible opportunity each time. Truthfully, he didn't know exactly how much they knew of him. The Republic knew, to some extent, although whether or not the other envoys from the semi-autonomous state present had been told specifics remained in question as well. Not that he was keen to broach the subject one way or the other. Fact of the matter was that the vast majority who had known him by name were dead, and most who knew his name now and mattered had long assumed Othokent himself had died, likely some time ago - and that suited him just fine. Anonymity had always been something he'd found comfort in, and as far as he was aware the Republic had put his name forward as nothing more than a representative for parties interested in leaving the Empire.
Holed up in his cabin as per usual, the black scaled reptilian perused the pages of an old, bound journal, by all appearances able to match some of the delegation's oldest for age - right up until alarms started to wail throughout the ship, causing Othokent to pause and glance towards the sealed door. It seemed their escort was here, judging by the lack of yelling and rapid footsteps that usually accompanied such developments. Closing the journal and clasping it shut, Othokent would stand to his full, considerable height, adjusting the simple layers of clothing he wore and reaching for his travel coat before moving to enter the hallway.
The swirling empty of slipspace would fill the projected holographic screen that gave the illusion of a direct viewport to the outside. Watching it was the commanding officer of the GFEV Aldarkal, who was far more comfortable with being out in regions that had some charted waypoints than the total unknown and unexplored. As it was, the Aldarkal's crew had been required to use the rarely considered stasis chambers for the month long journey to the designated meeting point.
A reason, the Firekkan mentally would note, that no one was happy about this assignment. Drone units had operated the ship during the periods of stasis for the crew, and probes had been launched to help chart new jump lines during cool down for the slipdrives. But otherwise, it had been a long journey in stasis, with little to show why this was worth their time. The upside was, there had been no encounters with the Kromus.
"Arrival in designated system in two minutes, commander. Ship and escorts are preparing to drop back to realspace for contact with the envoy from the Zaran Empire."
The avian humanoid nodded silently as she turned toward the centract dais of the command platform and took her place in the command seat. "Make sure we have our initial reports ready to transmit back to Daiban after we make contact, then notify Ambassador Ulmor that he will be up for his task."
Soon after, the swirling nothing opened up in a flash to reveal normal space once more. Half a dozen more ships exploded out of the subspace realm and into place around the Aldarkal, formations taken to make sure that their lead ship and it's envoy were kept safe.
"Broadcast to the Zaran envoy that we have arrived and will await further contact." With a resigned click of her beak, Lieutenant Commander Ja'kaa of the Federation Exploration Corps would lean her head back and breath. It was dull work...but at least there were no damned Kromus.
The unarmed Wyvern craft made it's way across the empty void, the pilot going through the standard identification docking request procedures, all in all it was rather anti-climactic.
Not long thereafter, the Imperial Envoy team was stepping out of the troop pod and into the Hangar of the Aldarkal, each fiddling with their translation headsets. The eye-searingly clad Varrik would step forward first, his eyes flitting around rapidly to take everything in, advanced alien vessels weren't something commonly seen back home.
"HelloHello goodfellows, thisisarathersplendiddayfordiscourse, hopefullyit'llgoassmoothlyasfreshlylubricatedclock, praydotellthough youlotdohavefinebeverage right?" "Mr Valkorion, you would do well to slow your speech, we can barely understand you and we aren't having everything translated two-fold, I haven't had enough caffeine to keep up with your verbal vomit." "Please now, this isn't a particularly good first impression you're giving. General Erikson at your service, the others will do most of the talking, they've more expertise in commerce and the like." "Damn right we've got more expertise, jus' don't listen to a thing the posh prick next to me says." "Oi, you couldn't tell the difference between GDP and GNP you smoothbrained braggart."
The kobold's bickering would be cut short by the ragged clearing of a dwarven throat followed by a slow clanking as cyborg stepped up. "It's a pleasure, shall we continue elsewhere?"
------------ The entire time this was happening, Baromont was sitting there staring at the other vessels, evaluating, speculating. LiDAR and MADAR could only tell so much, and the search lights didn't tell much more. Unknown didn't sit well with him, but he could only hope that they wouldn't learn that information the hard way. The ships were powerful, had some sort of energy field, and he was *not* dumb enough to try the LSMA to figure out what they're made of.
"Let Unity know that the handoff was successful, we will await our next order, but request that it be to head back home." "Yes, sir"
the things that you might like don't grow inside of me
During the entire transitional period Othokent would remain quiet, content to simply listen. During the boarding of the Wyvern that would carry them over, the short hop across the uninviting void between the two very different capital ships from very different interstellar empires, and even during the final landing and debarkation after the small transport had landed in the Federation vessel's hanger. Besides, it seemed as though the other dignitaries representing Zaran interests had more than enough to say all on their own, although that suited Othokent just fine as they stepped off and his clawed feet made contact with the metal deck plating.
Although, as one finger nearly came up to scratch at the ill fitting earpiece fastened to the side of his head before resisting the temptation, Othokent did find himself plagued by one nagging thought. The devices worked well enough as translation pieces, but the lizardman found himself doubting that they'd been properly stress tested. Perhaps used in closed, controlled environments as best as the Zarans could simulate, perhaps, but that wasn't the same as throwing them into the wild in sink or swim testing... and a diplomatic function like this didn't really seem like the proper place to do that. And while magic might not have been as it once was... he found himself wondering if those responsible for organizing the delegation had not thought to send someone along skilled in the use of Tongues. While Othokent had never once enjoyed working alongside bards and their ilk since his first displeasure with one and the spell might have been pushing their limits within the current day and age, it had been a common enough spell in the past that surely some within the Zaran government knew it in these modern times.
It seemed like it would have been a small but reasonable failsafe to include someone able to cast it just in case something happened.
Still, while the thought was one that continued to nag at the back of his mind the time and place to bring it up had long since passed, and the lizardman would remain quiet and near the back of the group as the delegation waited for the Federation to move things along.