Helianthus's Story

Rada Maric was a small woman, even by Terran standards, she barely even reached John Rodre’s shoulders as she entered the room behind him. Compared to the Gardenites in the room? The intelligence chief, a white haired woman in a dark black jacket, practically had to look down upon her like a parent would. Despite her stature however, Secretary General Rada Maric was perhaps the largest in the room as she entered. Even the Exogarden attaches stopped in a moment of recognition.

The Secretary General had spent the better part of twenty years turning the loosely colonized worlds of the Shore Planets into a confederation that emulated the blocs found across the Veil. From backwater stations and colonies, the Shore Planets had followed a growth similar to their brethren of the Terran Federation, and had rested control from the Apparatus’ colonial authorities in the time since.

If the Exogarden were disappointed at this however, they refused to show it at all. They had learned to tread lightly around the Secretary General - or rather, learned their place in her duties of state.

“Madam Secretary, Mister President.” The white haired woman began, standing beside a bank of holoprojectors that would be providing the connection to the Junior Officers of the Exogarden, a cadre of eight junior officers scattered all across the Local Region.

Rada Maric, despite her frigid exterior, was a charming woman. She had met this illusive intelligence chief before, at a gala one evening celebrating a Terran official’s retirement from the Exogarden. While she had never served in the military, she had always worked in the organs of the state, something that the Exogarden appreciated. While men like Rodre were concerned of the Exogarden’s lack of accountability, Rada Maric recognized it as a necessary control - without the support and backing of the civilian governments, the Exogarden had as much authority in these chambers as say the Federate itself did all the way back in New Empyrea.

That was to say, slim to none.

“Miss Counterbalance, it is a pleasure to see you again. Pray tell me, perhaps, that a meeting as important as this may require greetings on a first name basis?” Rada said with a forced smile, meeting the grey-eyed woman who only returned a soft lipped grin back to her.

“My apologies ma’am, but there’s a clearance even above this.” She replied with a soft nod, thought quickly offered a hand to pull her out a seat besides Rodre. Rada gave an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head abruptly while she seated herself and then draped a hand onto Rodre’s shoulder.

“Oh, do not say that - you will scare poor Johnne. I swear, to hear him speak of the Exogarden, you are waiting in every dark closet with a microphone. I can not tell whether I'm on the phone with a Terran, or an Aschen.” She teased playfully, though Rodre’s genuine concern seemed to draw him embarrassment finally. “Where was that young man with you last time though, the loud one with a taste for Terran vodka?”

“Oh, this is very much not his department. He is, happily, employed in the … acquisition side of the organization.” The woman explained cryptically, and anyone would notice her and Rada appeared to have a very fruitful competition of cat and mouse: Rada using her wit and charm to glean all she could, and her keeping that intelligence tradecraft sharp.

If this were the Garden, Rada would be an artifex by now - or dead, from asking too many questions.

“Quite a shame - he kept Arjun quite entertained, it’s not often he finds someone do indulge in xenoarchaelogy with.” Rada provided, taking her hand from Johnne after giving him an encouraging squeeze on his shoulder. The President of the Terran Federation draped two hands over the table before him then, reaching for a small decanter of scotch.

“That one talked rather eloquently for a dirt-chewer - well, until the fifth or sixth glass at least.” Johnne replied bluntly, drawing some of the golden liquor into his own glass. Apparently only Rada caught the irony.

“Rich Johnne, considering the full bar in your office.” Rada said calmly, and rather than reach for the bottle, she requisitioned herself a tablet from a stack of the devices placed on the table for use. “I wish our conversation were under better circumstances, I would rather we share a drink as friends than coworkers for once … “

"The Raptor has Landed..."

It took careful coordination among the powers that be, along with several discussions behind the scenes within the Imperial Aschen Government for this to even be considered, yet the arguments for, and against were weighed in the Quorum, and it was decided perhaps this would be the best practice moving forward. Marlene however, provided assurance into the security apparatus, and Chairman Inviere assured that the fleet would be on standby, and an exfil team had been assembled, and prepped aboard a Stealth Corvette somewhere in Aschen space, that would be staged, and ready to jump at a moment's notice. But the best part of the security plan was it's secrecy, only a handful in the Aschen government knew what was going on, and even fewer were cued in.

The security checks went smoothly, and the man was entered on official records as the 'Minister of Public Affairs, and Social Harmony' But Kesslee, and Marlene knew what was really going on.

The grand wooden doors to the main room opened slowly, with Marlene opening the door, She chose formal attire for this occasion, a knee-length skirt, blazer, and white blouse with a simple black woman's crossover tie, and a polished designer leather purse slung over her left shoulder.

Kesslee was wearing his formal indigo Confessor robes, adorned with the seal of the Confessor Cabal, but the third individual, an older, familiar looking man could be seen in a white formal blouse, with frilled shoulders, and form fitting pants with gold embroidery running down the sides. He carried himself with purpose, and with a sense of dignity as he moved through the doors, which Marlene let close behind them, which shut with an ominous clunk.

The trio of Aschen stood awkwardly in the grand hall, as they set eyes on their exogarden counterparts. Not a word was shared between the three as they stood there awkwardly.

The white haired woman was standing calmly before the enormous bay windows that produced a view of Metro City’s urban sprawl. While well maintained, the high-rises’ locale in the Political Plaza was oriented towards the more richer merchant and entertainment districts. Rada Maric had spent time in Metro City before, though found it lacking in comparison to the out-country rustic of, say, Nero or her own home, Blueshore.

“Had I known you’d be drinking, I would have brought some of the mead Arjun has been brewing out at Sevastopolc - I do not quite enjoy the taste myself, but then I’ve never been much of a drinker.” Rada offered with a dismissive wave of her hand, watching Johnne pour himself a glass.

“A statesman that doesn’t drink - I’m sure your constituents eat up the ‘pure woman’ drive.” Johnne quipped as he set the decanter back down, drawing the glass to his lips while he noticed the intelligence chief tilting her wrist to glance at her watch.

“I believe we’ve had some new arrivals.” The woman remarked, looking up momentarily as the door to the meeting room swung open to reveal the Aschen. Her features hardly changed, studying the figures before her with sharp eyes. “And it appears they’ve brought an extra … “

While the chief and Rada hardly seemed surprised, President Rodre was another question entirely. Turning in his seat, his eyes promptly narrowed in distrust before his glass was set down with an audible clack.

“What the fuck is this - “ He started, his tone immediately drawing an outstretched hand from Rada. Johnne rose from his seat, soon turning his fury to the intelligence chief. “Is this more of your Cobalt, behind the curtain, dark closet shit? You brought the fucking imperial government - “

“Actually, Mister President, it wasn’t - “ Before she could finish however, she was promptly cut off with another outburst.

“Quiet! You fucking skulltakers have turned my city into your fucking thieves den! And you’re hopping in bed with the god damned Imps? Does the Exogarden know about this?!” Rodre bellowed, though as the intel chief only rolled her eyes, Rada finally stood.

“Johnne … Johnne, that is enough! I invited them. An Artifex put me into contact with the Imperial government.” Rada said, standing toe to toe with the President even as she barely reached his shoulders in height. Rodre’s anger seemed to be replaced with confusion, and a soft hint of betrayal, as he looked to the Secretary General.

“You? Rada what the hell were you thinking - you’re going to cut them in on classified information that could put millions of our people’s lives in danger? Are you insane?”

“And if these threats Cobalt believes they have discovered are true, millions of their people would be in just as much danger.” Rada offered, giving an encouraging wave to the Aschen while Johnne reached a palm to his forehead.

“Rada. I know you’re not this stupid. The High Commodore and that fucking … harpie of a woman working for him are chomping at the bit to dissolve the Separation Charter. If they find out you’re dealing intelligence to the fucking Imperial government - “

“I can deal with the Commodore, Johnne - and his little pet capsuleer.” Rada said dismissively, giving an emphatic sigh. “Where’s your spine.” She finished with one final jab. Johnne was still unconvinced however, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

“You’re hell bent ending your career in an ITDM gulag, aren’t you? And for a fucking Aschen who wouldn’t even look back twice with the thought of helping you if the shoe were on the other foot.” He said through a blustering sigh, dropping a hand to the back of his chair.

Rada stood with her chin straightened, jaw set as she spoke not at Johnne, but rather past him. “I was eleven years old when the first Aschen began colonizing Terra, Johnne, I was aware of their cruelty before our benefactors across the Veil even heard of our homeworld.” She started, soon pointing a single, spindly finger into the man’s chest.

“Do you know why the Coalition succeeded on our world while the Aschen failed? Because they did exactly what I did here - bring our strengths to the table, all of them. Leaving them in the lurch will play into the hands of the OPA or, even worse, whoever they are working for. These spacers would kill every one of us in this room,” She indicated over to the Aschen, her and Johnne, and then the white haired woman, who simply gave a tiny nod. “In a heartbeat and not even bat an eye. We certainly aren’t allies, but for once we are on the same side of this fight.”

Prince slowly stepped forward, listening quietly to the outburst, and not reacting to it outright, but considering his next words carefully. He carefully listened, and then crafted his response as he inclined his head respectfully, something that wasn’t too common among Imperials of his stature.

“Director.” The man said calmly, as Marlene tossed a rather thick file folder on the table, inside it contained intelligence briefings, dossiers, statements from informants, and agents in the field concerning activities in Aschen space.

“In the spirit of cooperation, His Majesty has elected to share this information freely, this file folder contains information, and data drives pertaining to everything we suspect could be involved with these illegal operators moving in the fringes of Imperial space, and through the cordon. Much of it is highly classified, and would otherwise be redacted, but His Lordship.” Marlene cast a gaze over towards Prince. “Thought it better to share it openly.”

Prince took one step forward before looking to Kesslee, and then he extended his hand towards Rodre, though it didn’t seem like much, it was a first to not be arrogantly pontificating to a foreign dignitary.

“Forgive me, but it was necessary for my presence here to be under false pretenses, I am Isambard Prince.” Prince introduced himself. “You may call me Prince, though, whatever suits your needs.”

The Emperor briefly turned to Kesslee, and then back to his counterparts on the other side of the room.

“For the last few years I have been dealing with factional infighting, open rebellion, and military incompetence, If this threat is as grave as the Artifex impressed upon my representatives, then it is in the best interest of the Empire to cooperate, and ensure a continued peace in the local region. I have instructed my government to dedicate all due resources in cooperating with this effort, I will personally ensure their cooperation, but we will require full disclosure.” Prince explained, rather in a matter of fact tone.

Both Marlene, and Kesslee opted to remain silent, Marlene’s eyes falling to the black file folder that came to rest on the table.

The white haired woman put a tablet in the crux of her arm and held it across her chest, studying the three Aschen. While Rada and Johnne stood at the table, the intelligence chief was with her back to the large window as airjets passed and lifters streaked distantly in the skies overhead. While she was silent, for now, the faintest smile could be seen slowly crossing her face as the two distant peoples met.

When the Aschen approached and introduced himself, her features shifted into a momentary surprise with a smirk. Johnne’s demeanor hadn’t changed, though particularly subsided. The Aschen were here already, weren’t they? Johnne soon, reluctantly, took Isambard’s hand with a terse word.

“Never thought I’d see the day I wished the Apparatus was still around.” Rodre said tersely, before Rada finally spoke again.

“We’ve got the next best thing, the heartbeat to the whole system they left behind in the Local Region.” Rada said, turning her attention over to the white haired woman at the window. When the stack of files was left on the table, the woman drew a hand up to the tablet in her hand.

“Not often a subject of the Imperial government gives me something willingly … I appreciate the change, Mister Prince.” The woman only nodded slightly, her fingers tapping briefly at the tablet before a hologram projector in the center of the table came whirring to life. “In the interest of preventing further disharmony in the Local Region, amongst the Terrans or your Aschen government, my company believes transparency and cooperation paramount - though you shouldn’t consider this in benefit of your less immediate position I hope you understand, considering the fact I am privy to some intelligence that implicates even your government.”

The woman stopped for a moment, eyes turning up in thought as an insignia of Supreme Command flashes across the windows of the room. “As a recommendation in my consulatory capacity - sadly, I don’t believe the company ever filed the appropriation for Imperial consularship … officially, I’m only authorized to debrief Langarites.”

Johnne didn’t bother to hide a smirk of amusement as he stood by his seat and clutched up his glass, soon treating himself to a hefty swig before drawing the decanter closer to the edge of the table.

“That’s the Apparatus’ little war, however. I haven’t had to dip my feet back into that for years now … I’ve other business to tend to until your government makes the mistake of placing me back on that chessboard again.” The woman said tersely, then stepping before a holographic airscreen stretching out behind her. Behind her a smattering of images soon poppd to life, CCTV or more intricate technical data like ship schematics and signatures.

“For the more immediate threat, I believe there is a distinct possibility that organized state agitators are preparing for expanded operations within the Local Region.” She began, taking one step sideways as a three-dimensional image materialized atop the table of a man draped in robes and a strange chest harness wrapping around his torso. “This man was the founder of a radical spacer militia that called itself the Outer Planetary Armies in 2593, nearly half a century ago now. Warlords with starships, more or less. They terrorized nascent planets and states for some ten years until this man was finally killed in a precision strike.”

“This organization threatens states from it’s frays, in the slums and on the backwater stations.” She seemed intently to direct her words to the Aschen next, an image of corpses strewn along the streets flashing behind her as a government building smoldered nearby. “It preys on your government’s incompetence and ideology, your own policies and bureaucracy used to bleed you to death - and that’s well before they even start shooting.”

A planet snapped to life beside the woman, who then turned her gaze to the small blue orb splashed with green and brown islands. “This is Hadriatica, formerly used as a Star Fleet lighting station, though with the start of the Exogarden Apparatus presence was scaled to nothing. Apparently, the High Commodore has more pressing matters in ALIRBAD than genuine threats to my employers here in the Confederation. In the years since the OPA has begun operating openly on the planet and coercing the civilian population with it’s businesses and operations - as contemptuous as Imperial law is for liberty, I believe even your government will find the OPA’s methods unsavory.”

“Assets in the Exogarden have been preparing for an inevitable armed confrontation with the OPA for expressly this reason. Firstly, this should be considered as an advisory - military operations will begin, and the Exogarden is to be placed on a war footing. To keep the OPA from organizing further into a wider military threat Hadriatica must be secured by forces on the ground - largely tasked to battalions of the Exogarden. Subsequent operations to arrest those responsible will be coordinated amongst the Imperial, Charybdian and Terran governments by the Exogarden Stellar Police Force. I shouldn’t have to reiterate that with this cooperation, international law will be acknowledged and observed regardless of discrepancy within the host-nation states, Mister Prince.”

Prince grimaced slightly as he stood tall in the face of his counterparts, it wasn't often that he was the piece on the board, personally privy to negotiations. It was a duty the Emperor typically delegated to his many ministers, and adjutants, but the incomptency of those even within his own part had grown frustrating to the Emperor. And so here he was, personally tending to this debrief, so that no subject could either willfully, or neglectfully bungle the situation.

"My aims serve my people, and the interests of the Empire. It is my duty to address all threats to her stability, and to the rule of law, whether they be within my government, or at the hands of foreign influences." Prince remarked, silently moving to approach the table. Prince watched the screens, and listened intently. Already he was making his mind up, trying to find ways to better address the smoldering problems back home. He knew the backwater planets, the slums, and the outer stations would always be a hotbed for non state agitators, organized dissidence, and rebellion. He silently began to formulate his next moves within his mind.

"Perhaps imposing the same order, and the rule of law that we have within the Imperial Core, to the outer fringes would shore up the smoldering issues within the fringe worlds, and perhaps frustrate these spacers in their efforts." Prince thought to himself out loud, He knew the Quorum would voice it's reservations recalling Imperial Patrols, but in this time of peace, much of the Imperial Navy was moored back home, and could be rapidly deployed to Aschen fringe worlds, and outer territories in a campaign to bring the Party's control across the entirety of the Empire.

If the Military didn't bungle it.

Silently, Prince watched Hadriatica on the airscreen, he looked over to Marlene, and whispered to her in Anquietas, He was asking her about the threat, which she simply nodded, they both came to the hushed agreement that cooperation for now would be in the best interest of the Empire.

Prince swallowed hard, perhaps he was swallowing a lump in his throat, or his pride, either way he eventually opened his mouth to speak.

"I will instruct Admiral Nagala personally to coordinate with the Exogarden." He was having trouble with those words, and it was clear, but he knew it had to be done. "All relevant international codes of conduct, and rules of engagement need be forwarded to both the Ministry of Defense, and my office so that we can review them, and ensure compliance. Though, such an undertaking will require a complete revision in both our training practices, and our military doctrine. Such changes would be a monumental undertaking, as would any coordination with Exogarden forces, if we are to cooperate, we ask that ALIRBAD lift their blockade through the Bridge of Sighs, so that those from the Imperial Province of Isiria can be assured safe passage, in and out of Empire proper." Prince remarked. "If those conditions can be met, the Exogarden can be assured of Imperial cooperation, and compliances with all conditions surrounding this engagement."

The white haired woman’s tone then began to change as she continued, those sharp eyes then fixing onto Marlene in the moment. “That being said, I’ve hardly the time to corroborate policy with every Federate guideline considering our … precarious communications with the Garden. I’m not often one for the courts and procedures, I’m sure those that have threatened the peace and stability of your countries will be in proper care once turned over to the host-nations.” She said with an almost playful smile hinting at the corner of her lips. “I’m sure the Regional Bureau, however, will be excited of the opportunity to study the Imperial government in statecraft - they’ve a fascination with bringing Edenites into the civilized age.”

“If crackdowns and militarization were the answer, Mister Prince, we’d be having this conversation on Langara rather than here.” She remarked promptly, images splashing into the air behind her of the expeditionary carrier in the Aurora, posed next to a picket line protest somewhere in Metro City.

“There is a very fine line between protector and occupier, that I would suggest you and your subordinates learn to appreciate in the coming months. Every one of your soldiers and sailors that you place in harm's way and is killed will be a blow to the peacekeeping efforts of the wider Exogarden - and particularly, the networks of clandestine operators and informants I’ve worked rather hard on cultivating the past few years.”

“Our governments may be different, but when we are in a room with information like this we can all agree on one thing,” Rada said, speaking as she rose from her seat beside Prince with a calming nod. “Protecting every Aschen or Gardenite protects every Terran from this organization, or whoever they are working for, and the same can be said in your positions.” She directed to Johnne and Prince, raising a small hand to point at the image of a burning building somewhere on Hadriatica.

“If we can prevent these men as they’re taking up arms, we might be saving our people a siege in a decade, or even five years from now.” Rada implored, turning her gaze to Marlene before giving a sweeping gesture to the table. “The Exogarden will burn them to ash but it will need to be rebuilt in the interest of the governments of the Local Region, but we will need our people there on the planet taking over from them.”

Marlene stood there, and quietly raised her eyebrow, wondering silently what the white haired woman wanted with her, she simply shrugged, and opted not to say anything further. She shifted her footing, placing one foot in front of the other, crossing her legs slightly while hardening her gaze. She had nothing further to say to her Cobalt counterpart, though her eyes shimmered slightly while her mind peered into the ether.

Prince merely offered a frown at the response, and Kesslee saw it fit to speak up. "Langara is the most secure world in the Empire, disorganized militias would be foolish to attempt anything so close to the core, the logistics of such an undertaking would be almost impossible." The Grand Confessor said, challenging the white haired woman's assessment of Imperial national security.

Quietly, Marlene cast her gaze to Prince, and then back to the woman. "I'm not in the business of building nations, I'm in the business of the status quo." Marlene remarked. "Hearts and Minds is Minitru's department."

"Public affairs, and social harmony." Prince remarked. "But the burden of bringing errant worlds back into the fold will be everyone's responsibility, and we will need to address the shortcomings that led to these people to take up arms in the first place." Prince said heaving a sigh. "The tenets of the party will not serve those disenfranchised outer colonists, who see themselves as outsiders, looking in. If we tighten our grip, it will only serve to drive them further away from us."

"We should purge them, all of them." Kesslee remarked. "Dead people do not take up arms."

"You'd turn them into martyrs, and we're going to need the Exogarden's expertise quelling rebellion at Sky's edge, where General Nabaal, and Admiral Hanley are currently tied up." Marlene replied.

"Hanley should have glassed the planet." Kesslee rebuked, and Marlene simply shook her head. "The more we tighten our grip, Grand Confessor, the more systems slip through our fingers."

"I should have you re-educat-"

"Enough." Prince interrupted, bringing his attention back to Helianthus.

"We can debate the minutia of Aschen statecraft later, You have our support, and our compliance, we will quell this rebellion on Hadriatica, and come back to the table to debate the future, preferably on Langara, as peers." Prince said finally.

“I think for the sake of my interests in the Local Region and the Aschen Home State in the future, you and your government familiarize yourselves with the business of nation-building - despite your propaganda, there’s actually far more important beyond your corner of the galaxy that more of you are learning of. Considering the past and current terroristic nature of your government even, the Exogarden took a moment considering just who their true enemies were before moving forward against the OPA.”

The intelligence chief spoke dryly as Johnne and Maric studied the information before them. “There was an OPA splinter cell that had infiltrated Eden Prime’s nuclear reactor sectors a few years ago - the ESPF had cleaned them up but their network had been left behind. They planned to steal spent fuel rods for use in dirty ordnance, though just because we stopped them in the Shore Planets doesn’t mean we stopped them elsewhere.”

“On Bathe the spacer propaganda and civil arm has been at work across the stations, and a peculiar ship has been dispatched for some months now. I believe this ship to be of particular interest in the goings on - as it was last docked in Hadriatica if I recall.” Rada began, then looking to Prince with a nod toward a picture of the planet hanging over the table. “If the Aschen and Terrans are alongside the Exogarden on Hadriatica, our governments will benefit from a multilateral situation handled by the expertise of the Apparatus.”

The Gateway world of PT-7861Z, known only by it’s Aschen name, was a rocky and sparsely settled planet: or it had been, until the march of time saw it become a hotspot for both criminals fleeing the Empire and the countless masses of refugees and displaced persons forced from their home and persecuted by the very government that was supposed to protect them.

It was something Helianthus had become, regrettably, cold to. Her calm, icey eyes watching out the window aimlessly as the Aschen SUV trundled along the patchy road: hastily beaten out of the planet’s harsh crust to accommodate the ramshackle camp that sprung up around it, passing by the empty eyes of people struggling to survive on a planet they may as well have been stranded on.

The worst thing, Helianthus thought to herself, as her eyes flicked across the image of a starving woman no older than 20 was that she hadn’t even recognized the bundle of cloth wrapped tightly at her chest, clutched to her bosom for protection.

“Haven’t checked the Skeye feeds for it but, ‘fugees say the Ultras come and take slave labor at night - some say they’re gonna’ build infrastructure for an invasion but, we all know how their space elevator went.” A dull voice replied from the driver’s seat, the COLSOG Ranger clutching the wheel with one hand as he deftly pulled the SUV away from an overturned, burning vehicle.

The conversation was unknown, but a gang of Aschen men were standing around the vehicle, clubs and cudgels held leisurely while their free hands gestured about the devastation. “The lottery is getting narrower and narrower and they’re starting to realize all the money in the brought from their fake little world won’t get them out of it … “

“We can’t really tell them they can’t abandon their oath and then bang at the doors of the church for salvation. The Imperials are not to blame for their pathetic state … entirely.” The woman replied, her voice dry and delicate yet harsh as the very air of this inhospitable planet.

“Imperials? I think this is just the Edenites - a perpetually broken. Don’t get me wrong - utmost moral consideration for them, terrible what’s happening here - but they took what they wanted and then asked us to leave. Then flee to us screaming of the Charter as their own government turns upon them.” The Ranger said plainly, letting his foot off the gas while a pair of young men struggled to move an old, emaciated mule across the road. “I mean look man … that poor fucker is just a god damn ass and it’s traveled across billions of miles just for them to wind up here.”

Helianthus sat idly in the passenger’s seat, only shifting with the odd rut in the road. The Ranger’s words seemed lost upon the white haired woman. Instead, her mind wandered, one more eye opening as a lonely pair of SUVs trundled across the sprawling encampment swallowed by the planet’s rugged surface.













An imposing Azric loomed over the huddled figure of an Imperial, uniform stained with a combination of what Major Hampton could only imagine was dirt and urine - or perhaps worse. The Aschen let out a whimper briefly when the back of the Gardenite’s hand met his head, bouncing it forward just slightly trying to bring him out of whatever fugue state he had been in since he arrived.

“Where the fuck has the food you’re supposed to be bringing in been going, you fuckin’ animals?” Another Gardenite barked, the narrowly framed Aleuronite grabbing the back of the chair their prisoner rested upon and suddenly wrenching it back just slightly.

“‘Audire non possum mandeno’ - what the fuck is that in Common - Common, Communia? Remember your fucking Common, you illiterate, dirt munching shit.” The Aleuronite barked, while the Aschen simply folded his hands and legs up while his sobs filled the room. As the Azric began unfolding a wrap of cloth around his fist from his pocket, his comrade dropped the chair back onto all four legs. The Gardenite took one step before there was the soft static garble of the PA, a harsh voice interjecting the room.

All of a sudden, a fleet of roughly 176 vessels appears. They are all roughly cut from metal, as if assembled from the scraps of a much, much larger ship, and are all painted with a lightning bolt within a sun, that sun being the pupil of a larger eye.
They had been dragged from all around space outside of Aschen territory, and all arrived in intervals of around a minute. The largest ones, three well-sized ships of about 400 crew, were titled the Vorud’d Frohill, the Vorud’d Cotruniv, and Vorud’d Harra, those meaning the duty to family, country, and Godwind, respectfully.
The 12 other ships of decent size, also mostly carriers consisting of roughly 120 crew each, titled, in plain common, “Trustworthiness,” “Loyalty,” “Helpfulness,” “Friendliness,” “Courteousness,” “Kindness,” (Of which was emblazoned with a giant Red Cross, plainly a medical ship) “Obedience,” “Cheerfulness,” “Thriftiness,” (Of which was covered with giant cutters and carried general repair and scrapping technology) “Bravery,” and finally, the “Reverence,” the largest of all of them.
There were a greater assortment of smaller attack vessels of 60 to 80 crew, all of which were titled with other virtues, although there were a few individual vessels, painted in deep reds and tans, titled with more essentially vulgar names, in a variety of both dialectic Klendathan and Oberon, as well as common, as well as one with the name “Solidarity” crosses out and replaced with “Imperial Pigfuckers” underneath it, although in a near unreadable dialect.
The many smaller, less organized ships, painted with the colors red and tan, as soon as arriving begin blasting a variety of “music” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FX0qJqsEkZQ , https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lLrX7MH1Rtg , https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CMwKXTnOTVc ) before being drowned out by static, which is then replaced with a message in common, broadcasted from the three great-ships.
“Val’Din Ch’K’Harra. May the Godwind guide our souls. We have come to pay in blood for the prisoners taken from our outreach program. We have no quarrel but with those of the Imperialist Dogs who have taken the men and women who served on the ships sent to rescue those unfairly stolen, despite their peaceful intentions. We have suffered and feared for far too long, and now we shall take action, guided by Harra. Prepare for thy essence to be drowned and scattered by the winds. That is all.”