Sol System, Outer Oort Cloud
"The humans are under threat. Fleet Primaris Sol, commence deployment. You are cleared to utilize lethal force. Target any extraterrestrial forces deemed hostile to homo sapiens with extreme prejudice. This message has been authorize by the High Council. Any extraterrestrials that refuse to lay down arms are to be terminated at all costs."
High Admiral Tripemon paced frantically around the ready room of his flagship, the eyes of the Imperial Quasar, his senior officers watching him intently. When the admiral froze, they did too, hanging on his every movement. He sighed deeply, his battle-scarred tungsten shell glimmering in the artificial light.
"Order all craft to battle-ready status. I want transports ready to deploy supplies and ground troops to Terra by the time we pass Pluto's orbit. Prepare implosion charges for immediate launch. Questions?"
Tripemon's communications officer spoke up immediately. "You're not going to send a message, sir?"
Tripemon chuckled, shaking his head. "No. I want these aliens, whoever they are, to know that any strike against a race of science is a personal affair for us, and I want the humans to know that we intend to protect their freedom. I want them to know that we are not about to be trifled with. You all have ten minutes to prepare for battle. Then I will deliver our ultimatum."
Bridge of the Imperial Quasar
The High Admiral nodded to his communications officer. "All possible frequencies. Open a universal comms channel with advanced linguistic decoding. I don't want any misunderstandings. Send supplemental methods in the form of numeric code."
"You're on, sir."
"Very well, then... Greetings to the invaders, to the human race. I am High Admiral Tripemon of the Bicirrigan Interstellar Meritocratic Republic. The beings of tungsten and technology that inhabit the isolated fringe of the galactic West. I have been ordered here by my government to monitor and protect the human race from outside threats, with lethal force if necessary. I come not as an oppressor, only as a guardian. I have no intention of ruling any part of Sol, not do I intend to establish military bases in Sol without direct permission from the Terran government. Our sensor net has recently detected an unwelcome incursion upon the system of Sol. This an incursion that my government, under no circumstances, will tolerate. This is my only warning to those who would stifle intellectual freedom. My fleet serves only as an arm of Earth, for the time being. I have been ordered to allow a minimum of ten minutes for a response from the invaders before I order my craft to exterminate them with as much prejudice as our guns can muster. Your ten minutes begin...Now."
"The humans are under threat. Fleet Primaris Sol, commence deployment. You are cleared to utilize lethal force. Target any extraterrestrial forces deemed hostile to homo sapiens with extreme prejudice. This message has been authorize by the High Council. Any extraterrestrials that refuse to lay down arms are to be terminated at all costs."
High Admiral Tripemon paced frantically around the ready room of his flagship, the eyes of the Imperial Quasar, his senior officers watching him intently. When the admiral froze, they did too, hanging on his every movement. He sighed deeply, his battle-scarred tungsten shell glimmering in the artificial light.
"Order all craft to battle-ready status. I want transports ready to deploy supplies and ground troops to Terra by the time we pass Pluto's orbit. Prepare implosion charges for immediate launch. Questions?"
Tripemon's communications officer spoke up immediately. "You're not going to send a message, sir?"
Tripemon chuckled, shaking his head. "No. I want these aliens, whoever they are, to know that any strike against a race of science is a personal affair for us, and I want the humans to know that we intend to protect their freedom. I want them to know that we are not about to be trifled with. You all have ten minutes to prepare for battle. Then I will deliver our ultimatum."
Bridge of the Imperial Quasar
The High Admiral nodded to his communications officer. "All possible frequencies. Open a universal comms channel with advanced linguistic decoding. I don't want any misunderstandings. Send supplemental methods in the form of numeric code."
"You're on, sir."
"Very well, then... Greetings to the invaders, to the human race. I am High Admiral Tripemon of the Bicirrigan Interstellar Meritocratic Republic. The beings of tungsten and technology that inhabit the isolated fringe of the galactic West. I have been ordered here by my government to monitor and protect the human race from outside threats, with lethal force if necessary. I come not as an oppressor, only as a guardian. I have no intention of ruling any part of Sol, not do I intend to establish military bases in Sol without direct permission from the Terran government. Our sensor net has recently detected an unwelcome incursion upon the system of Sol. This an incursion that my government, under no circumstances, will tolerate. This is my only warning to those who would stifle intellectual freedom. My fleet serves only as an arm of Earth, for the time being. I have been ordered to allow a minimum of ten minutes for a response from the invaders before I order my craft to exterminate them with as much prejudice as our guns can muster. Your ten minutes begin...Now."