[u][b]RCNS [i]Piggyback[/i]
Kelmarthy System
[/b][/u]

“Getting a response, sir” the communications officer reported.
“What are they saying?” Rekkavik asked.
“They’re not ‘saying’ anything Captain, it’s a series of pulses. Hold on, I’d be better off letting the computers decipher it.”
“Very well. Tactical, cease defencive fire, but keep all guns hot. If they’re willing to talk, I don’t think they’ll shoot us, but we can’t be too careful. On that note, Navigation, plot some emergency jump coordinates well out of the system, and keep the FTL drive fully charged.” Rekkavik tapped a button on the arm of his chair. “Psyops, this is the Captain, what can you tell me?”
“It’s confusing sir,” the First Psintegrat replied. “The alien minds seem...dispersed. We suspect they may be psionically or cybernetically networked in some way. Would you like the us to begin more active analysis?”
“No, let’s not spook them with unnecessary psionics, I believe we’re on the verge of establishing conventional communications anyways.”

The bridge became oddly silent, except for the occasional hushed reports of junior officers at their duty stations. The senior staff had their attention focused on the main holo, which was displaying the incoming message in bits and pieces as the computers put it all together.
“That’s interresting,” the Comms officer said quietly. “It’s definitely a first contact package, but less...lazy....than ours. It might be worth sending this back to Corinthene, a mathematical approach might be useful in future first contact situations.”
“Noted.” Rekkavik said curtly.

With a few more minutes, the computers spat out the final message. Rekkavik privately reflected on the somewhat substandard information technology systems aboard [i]Piggyback[/i]. That was one aspect of the old Valerian Republican Navy that he missed. The RCN was steadily integrating superior Valerian computer systems into the fleet, but there were a lot of ships to refit, and Piggyback hadn’t yet received the refits. Still, the current computers had done their job well enough, though the contents of the message gave Rekkavik pause. His mind raced along lines of possibility; an explorer was all nice and good, but what about the other ships in the system? They appeared to be setting up industrial processes, in sovereign Commonwealth space. Granted, the system was empty, but it was still within the Commonwealth’s borders. And if they were fleeing from something, how many more ships would be coming? Would they respect the Commonwealth’s borders, or push forwards regardless? Would they prove hostile in the long run?

Too many questions for the moment. Rekkavik reeled in his wandering mind, “Comms, for now just send them a ‘message understood’. Then get the computers to expand on this artificial language so we can have some actual dialogue.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[u][b]Govplex Arcology
City of Alusia
Corinthene[/b][/u]

“So it’s finally beginning,” Lord Chancellor Metternich said gravely, looking around the room at his assembled Cabinet. They were gathered in a large, comfortable conference room, seated around a sleek metallic table with an enormous holo-display in the middle. It was currently displaying the locations of a number of Varangian fleets, some known, some theorized, but all definitely mobilizing for war. Some of the information had been politely forwarded along by the Alorians, and some had been collected by spies of the Commonwealth Intelligence Directorate. Fleet movements of this scale were hard to keep secret after all, something Metternich would have to keep in mind.

The faces around the table were decidedly grim, except for Bismarck, who was looking very pleased with himself. The man was just inches from chanting aloud ‘I told you so!’, and Metternich was half inclined to let him. He had been right in the end, and largely due to his stubbornness, the Commonwealth was in a far better position to wage war than it might have been.

“Is it really inevitable, Chancellor?” Cecilia Boardman, the Minister of Industry and Trade, asked.
 “Oh there’s a vague chance it’ll all blow over, but it’s exactly that: a vague chance,” Bismarck interjected.
Mettternich nodded. “We’re effectively at war already, except nobody’s had the guts to fire the first shot.”
“I’m glad you said that Chancellor, because I was thinking the same thing.” Bismarck leaned forward in his chair. “I want your permission to mobilize the fleets.”

The silence in the room was absolute. Mobilizing the fleets would more or less eliminate any chance of avoiding conflict with a diplomatic resolution. But Metternich knew he didn’t have a choice. His duty to the Commonwealth was clear; if the Varangians were mobilizing, he had to mobilize in turn.

“Do it,” he said quietly, and paused for a moment. When he spoke again, he seemed to have gained conviction. “I also want you to dispatch Admiral Volkov and 5th fleet to the Alorian border, send General Kyarguin and Anderson Ribbentrop along as well. Instruct them to work with the Alorians to...prepare for the worst. And by gods, make sure you tell the Alorians in advance that we’re going to drop a whole battlefleet on their border!”