League of Species High Council, Messier 18 Cluster, Carina-Sagittarius Arm
I believe that wraps up these proceedings of War, said the Bonthian Admiral. She was
an imposing hexapod, towering 4 meters tall, and her carapace was studded with medals stapled
into her bony exoskeleton, a record of military victories a permanent fixture of her body.
She was tired of this meeting. Another upstart species on the fringe of League space, and
another interminable meeting about which member species ships would be selected in the line
of battle to put the upstarts in their place. She surveyed the long, raised table in front
of her, flanked on each side by the ranking members of the League Galactic Security Council.
Below the table, the delegations of lesser council species and junior members stood,
perched, sat or coiled depending of their respective physiologies. Admiral Nuryaw sat
at the head of the table, flanked by her species ambassadors to the League, befitting her position
as the leader of the most powerful military in the security council, and therefore its
chair-being. Her medals clanked at her chest carapace as
she raised her gavel-stone in her grasping-hoof to dismiss the council, seeing the colored
holograms that signaled [approval] blink into existence above the various delegations at
the table and the council floor as they keyed in their assent on their speaking stones.
She was about to rap the gavel-stone on the tables surface, when a blinking hologram with
the symbols of [dissent] and [request to speak] caught her gaze near the corner of the room,
hovering over a delegation far back in the crowd. Some minor race looking to score political
points during security proceedings, most likely. As far away from the table as they were, they
must have been one of the most junior species present. However, protocol was protocol, and
member species were allotted speaking time, after all.
The War-Council recognizes Ambassador Nesh of the ... Nuryaw paused at the unfamiliar
species name, Dreeden people. You may speak. On large holo-screens floating high-above
the council chamber, the view switched from the decorated admiral to a small, bipedal
creature with what looked to be a huge compound eyes on either side of its bulbous head, and
upper limbs that ended in a myriad of small, writhing tentacles.
The Dreeden Ambassador only stood one meter in height, but his voice reached the entire
war-council without the need for amplification. If it may please the security council, the
Dreeden Republic would yield its time to a non-voting member species.
This caused a stir on the council floor, as delegations whispered to each other. A junior
council species yielding what little time it was allotted on the floor to a non-voting
species? This was unheard of. What could a species so new or so minor that they had not
achieved voting status in the league have to add to a council of war? Delegations that
had a neck to crane now did so, looking at the holo screens to try to get a better look
at the Dreeden Ambassador. Nuryaw motioned the delegations to silence
with a wave of her fore-hoof. If only to sate the councils curiosity, the request is granted.
The Ambassador from Dreeden may yield his time.
Thank you Admiral. The ambassador passed his speaking stone to a delegation directly to
their right. The Dreeden yield their time to representatives of the Terran People. May
I introduce to you Ambassador Baden Woods and Admiral Patricia Davies of the Associated
Republics of Terra. Another bipedal figure accepted the Dreeden's
speaking stone. This Terran stood twice the height of Ambassador Nesh. Other than the
species possessing two limbs for locomotion and two limbs for grasping, not much else
was discernible to Nuryaw, as the entire Terran delegation seemed to be wearing full environmental
suits with completely opaque helmets. Nonetheless, there was something about their appearance
that made Admiral Nuryaw uneasy, as if these Terrans tickled a half-forgotten memory.
Nuryaw saw that she wasnt the only one to be discomfited by the appearance of these
Terrans. To her left, the Arkone ambassador had partially withdrawn into his shell, while
the Queel Admiral at the foot of the table flicked its mandibles in agitation. What horrors
must lurk under that mask! Nuryaw was under no illusions that species found each other
pleasing to the eye, but these Terrans truly must be hideous to illicit such a reaction!
Her discomfort was quickly replaced by amusement by the thought, and turned to listen to what
this Terran delegation could possibly hope to add to the proceedings, while idly calling
up information on the species on her personal holo-screen.
Honorable Species of the League, Admiral Nuryaw, we thank you for your time. You do our young
species honor to have our words heard by species as wise and as powerful as yours. You have
fought many wars, and won many victories. The human ambassador took a long pause. Unfortunately,
we do not believe this strike against the Rashan will be one of them.
If the spectacle unfolding on the security council chambers floor didnt have every
delegations attention before, it certainly did now. Nuryaws hackle-spines raised along
her back. You presume too much, calfling. While the information about the Terrans she
had been able to pull up on her screen was surprisingly sparse, with remarkably little
about the physiology of the creatures beneath their environmental suits, the entry about
how recently they became a space-faring species told her enough. The Bonth were fighting
inter-stellar war while your species was using stone tools. You jeopardize your future membership
in the league by presuming you have a superior military analysis of the situation. Around
the Security Council chambers, [assent] was signaled by most of the delegations.
You are correct, of course Admiral, with the Bonth leading its fleets, the League has
prospered for millennia. We do not assume to question your tactical analysis, but only
to suggest that it was made with incomplete information. Ambassador Woods replied.
We have reason to believe that the Rashan will not wage war in the manner that you expect.
We believe that they are a predator species. Nuryaw stifled a laugh. A predator species?
A sentient, space-faring predator species? Dont waste our time with that horror story.
Other security council members were not as successful at containing their laughter. �Simple
calfing,� Nuryaw sighed, �Three thousand years this League has policed this corner
of the Galaxy. Over a thousand sentient species under its protection,� she gestured over
the gathered delegations with her fore-hoof. �And never has any of them encountered a
sentient - or even close to sentient - predator.� �Surely you have access to the League�s
database. It is the struggle against simple predators that evolves sentience! That forces
species to use tools! It was our ancestral struggle as prey that was the crucible that
forged every species in this League. Predators? Flesh eaters? Capable of space travel? I�m
afraid you are mistaken, Terran.� Nuryaw moved once more to adjourn the session, only
to hear the Terran speak once more. Her hackle-spines rose again in agitation, but Ambassador Woods
didn�t seem to notice. �As implausible as it may seem, it is the
truth Admiral. Our intelligence sources managed to find visual records of Rashans outside
of their combat armor during one of their recent incursions into league space. Those
records show that the Rashans have forward facing eyes, and we believe teeth-analogues
that indicate a carnivorous diet. They are predators, and they will wage war like them.
Admiral Davies can elaborate, but their tactics will be nothing like those you have fought
against before, and if you use the battle plan proposed today, your fleet will not survive.�
Despite the Terran Ambassador�s opaque helmet, Nuryaw felt his gaze on her, and again repressed
a feeling of unease. What was it about this creature that created that reaction? She brushed
the thought aside. �Enough! This council will not be distracted by scientific impossibilities!�
Nuryaw once again raised the gavel-stone to adjourn, and grunted with frustration as the
symbol for [dissent] blinked insistently above Ambassador Nesh�s head. �You and your
pets are trying my patience, Ambassador Nesh.� Nuryaw�s hackle-spines were now fully raised.
�If it may please the security council, we would like to suggest an addendum to the
battle plans. It is obvious that our Terran friends are terribly ignorant in the ways
of war-making, and have let superstition guide their analysis. Surely they have misinterpreted
the data. We believe that this could be a learning experience for such a young species,
however. What better way for the Terrans to see that there is nothing to fear than to
see the League in action?�, the Dreeden Ambassador implored. �Let the Dreeden military
escort a small contingent of Terran ships to observe the battle to see for themselves
that the mighty League fleet led by the Bothian vanguard will easily route the Rashan from
the field.� Nuryaw waved a fore-hoof in exasperation.
�If that is what it will take for the Dreeden to quit interrupting these proceedings, then
so be it. I will not have their ships interfering with my line of battle, however.�
�Of course not, Admiral,� Nesh bowed in the direction of the table. �We would only
ask that our escorts and Terran calflings be allowed to engage any targets of opportunity,
so that we may have the honor in fighting alongside a League battlefleet.�
�You ask for much, but I see no reason to deny your request. How votes the council?�
[Assent] appeared across the council chambers, and finally Nuryaw was able to bring the gavel-stone
down. As the delegations filtered out of the chamber however, Nuryaw pondered her personal
screen. Of course the Terran�s claims were preposterous, but what was it about their
appearance that bothered her so much, and why wasn�t she able to find any information
on what they looked like under those suits? �Calflings?� Ambassador Baden Woods protested
as he poured the much smaller Dreeden ambassador a finger of whiskey from a cut crystal decanter
into a rocks glass wrapped in Nesh�s tentacles. The room was well appointed, with paintings
of landscapes from Earth and its colonies on the walls. Comfortable looking chairs sat
facing a massive walnut desk. It was a cosmological and biological fluke that humans and the Dreeden
had similar enough chemistry to enjoy ethanol in a similar manner, but it made inter-species
negotiations and state-dinners much more enjoyable, and being able to hash out policy issues over
a glass of scotch or pilak was one of the many reasons that the Dreeden and humans were
so close as species. Ambassador Nesh looked rather comical sitting
in the overstuffed leather lounge chair in Ambassador Baden�s study, feet dangling
off the ground. �It worked, didn�t it Baden? You can now get your ships in, and
have tactical freedom in the battlespace. Isn�t that what Admiral Davies wanted?�
�What I wanted was to have this attack called off in the first place,� a statuesque woman
with close-cropped salt and pepper hair and piercing blue eyes said as she entered the
room, taking the decanter from Baden�s hands and helping herself to a rock glass. �Gods
it�s good to be out of that contact suit. I swear my environmental system was set ten
degrees too high.� �We knew that changing their plan wasn�t
going to happen, Admiral. The security council, and Nuryaw have done things the same way for
millennia and they feel, to borrow a human phrase: if it is not damaged, then why repair
it?� �You�re right Ambassador, changing Nuryaw�s
mind was probably out of the question,� Baden said, sipping from his own glass as
he leaned back on to his desk. �But Admiral Davies is right as well. This battle will
be a disaster, and a lot of sentients will die because we weren�t able to convince
the security council today. Now it�s up to Patricia and your commanders to figure
out a way to save as many of them as possible.� The two Ambassadors and the Admiral stared
into their glasses �I can�t help wonder if it would have
helped for us to take our helmets off, to show them what we were,� Patricia mused,
taking a slow sip. Nesh shook his head sadly. �We�ve been
over this Admiral Davies. You know the reaction that my species had when you made contact
with us. Predators in space! You�re the very things that our science-fiction authors
have used for imaginary villains for centuries, and that swarm-mothers frighten their hatchlings
with. I�m not sure if you can ever understand the instinctual reaction that we experienced
when we encountered your species. We killed the last predator that preyed on our kind
thousands of years ago, but still we felt nothing but fear when we first saw you.
�If you had taken off your helmet in that council session, the only thing you would
have accomplished was to start a stampede that would have killed delegates, which isn�t
a good opening argument. Gods knows where our relations would be if it wasn�t for
the Vert slavers posing a common threat. Even then, after your fleet rescued our people
held captive by the Vert when the League wouldn�t lift a finger, we still had those among us
who wondered if you had eaten a few Dreeden on the way back.� Nesh sighed. �No, they
are not ready for the terran�s secret yet, and even if they were, it would not have swayed
them from their plan.� Nesh�s wide-set compound eyes glinted in
the dim light of the study. �Are you still planning on leading the mitigation force yourself
Patricia? I�ll owe you a bottle of single-malt Pilak when this is all over.
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