Snippet #2476289

Her words fell upon their ears, and they were silent, looking around at each other as if in some sort of telepathic ruling. "It will suffice. Hopefully our own scientists and Sorcerers will be able to provide further assistance in aiding your people," Bastille said finally.

A calm air pervaded over the chamber. "All that is left now is for you to provide us the location of your planet," Kishkin said. "With that business concluded, we will be able to send our forces to assist you in overthrowing this 'Supremacy' that threatens you so." With that the f'dellan councilor smiled. "Is this suitable, Vorsa, or do you require further convincing?"

The vresk was contemplative for a moment, a grunt and a gentle inhalation of air emanating from him. "Fine. As long as we have your cooperation. Just know this: our warriors do not die for useless causes. Do not make us regret this decision." With that, he was finished speaking, sitting back in his seat and eying the Misranans carefully.

"I suppose that concludes this meeting," Bastille said. "We shall send troops to assist your people as soon as possible. We thank you for your cooperation and your..." he trailed off, casting a sideways glance to his fellow vresk councilor from beneath his helmet. "...patience," he said finally.

The meeting was adjourned. Now all that remained were the final pleasantries.