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Thoughtfully pondering his next move, the diplomat attempts mixing memories with his psychic message, a simple greeting and expression of peace and a warning of something dangerous far away, as the memories of Yuri Clones greeting other species peacefully are intermingled with recollections of attacks by the automated submarine navies and their air forces.
The decorated Arranu takes a few seconds to process what he received then clearly starts spreading it to other Arranu with clear psychic energy emanating all around them. afterwards the Arranu sends a memory of him leading other Arranu in many situations and of their people moving around clearly being nomadic but also trade with other Arranu showing they are peacful.
A small frown emerges from Cox's face,"I see, yet it seems that to some extent alcohol is still consumed within the country? I understand the worries of the faithful, religion is important to many Athatonians while the state maintains a secular rule of law. However, I'm sure that those in the council will be able to see the benefits that allowing alcohol into the country may bring. Truly, the great prosperity that such trade may bring to the people and the church may show them while alcohol may seem like a source of corruption, it can also be a force for good. Perhaps if said council were to benefit from donations from the Athatonian alcohol industry, to help them worship their divine to the greatest extent, they may forgive the sale of such commodities. Think of it almost as an unofficial sin tax, an indulgence the Athatonians may be willing to pay for as long as such trade was accepted?"
Lithgow interjects," On the matter of militarism, I mean no disrespect, one was merely asking out of curiosity.If you wish to build a new holy land upon this new world we would be the last to stop you. In fact, we may even be willing to support your vision, to pursue your theological goals. However, everything must come at a price. The alcohol trade was a major source of revenue for us on our homeworld and we wish to see it prosper once again. Help us to help you. While we are extremely grateful for the matter of regular trade and will be happy to purchase any land required, we both feel that it is a very pressing matter that we secure what we believe will be the most profitable arrangement for both of us. At least let our diplomats analyse what the potential profit could be before you turn your nose at what we have to offer."
"On the note of technology, perhaps a mutual exchange could be of both our benefit. Not to sound arrogant, but Athaton is a world leader in terms of technological development, or at least it was before we were transported to a world where we lack comparison. Perhaps certain manufacturing could be outsourced to Athatonian factories to save money on production costs, allowing you to field more troops and equipment for less. As well as this, our mastery over robotics could allow you to artificially increase the size of your military by substituting robotic troops instead of organic ones, allowing you to field as many troops as you can afford which will be substantially more if you would open your doors to the trade of goods such as alcohol. Perhaps, as a sign of goodwill, we could even sell said robotic troops at a discounted rate, at no profit to ourselves. We strongly believe that when our friends succeed, so do we, and we wish to pursue a close friendship."
The lead diplomat gestured as he explained.
"That was our messaging system, without which would suggest we had been shot down or attacked by your local forces. This would provoke an armed response had we failed to send it in the allotted time, or fail to do so periodically. We are diplomats, from the Transylvanian survivors of Romania."
Pointing towards the hazmat suits and assembled armed forces, he sheepishly explained further.
"Your technological level has been identified as somewhat lower than average for nations on this planet, and I would like to be fair and warn you that there are several hostile and unconventional ones which would range from a threat to national security to your nation's existence in general. And yes, your nation has been, for lack of a better term, transported, in its entirety from your original world, like many others. Might we have the opportunity to discuss them professionally indoors and with the proper authorities, so as to keep this information classified and not incite a panic?"
Crash-landing in a forest, Sith Exile Darth Verhoren, previously in the employ of Emperor Darth Sidam, emerges from the smoking wreckage, his pace slow and his balance unsteady as he leaned on the Darkstaff, which had come alive with alien energy and hunger at the new setting it found itself in. He surveyed his surroundings, his proficiency in the Force aided by his helmet's vision filters and the Darkstaff's keen, eager hunger.
I shall discuss this with the Council, along with the possibility of retconning the Warden World into a ring to allow easier observation of other nations , but I doubt this one change will happen because ring maps inner and outer will be hard to make, and crossing other nations with your forces would require some acknowledgement from them, aka activity.
On the horizon... space marines... strong against everything but melee energy shields... praise the Omnissiah!
Despite the Decepticon empire being beaten, and the Cybertronian commonwealth becoming the dominant Cybertronian government, that does not mean that every vestige of the Decepticons were gone. Despite Megatron being in Autobot custody, and Starscream joining the Autobots, Shcokwave, Tarn and several others remained, and they still sought to destroy all organic life.
Dreazen
A decepticon warship has appeared on a shoreline in Dreazen.
Recover friend
Julma directed the transports to land beside the burning ruin, having the transports land within sight of the radar station but with as much open ground between them and the crowds as possible. The troopers fanned out, their guns levelled at the natives but holding fire for the moment, as Julma herself in typical black Sith armor strode forth, silent surveying the crowd and the burning individuals with nonchalance.
From her helmet came a distorted query, nay, a demand, laden with authority.
"Natives... who among you is your leader? I would exchange words with them."
Clutching a gash in his side, Darth Verhoren unsteadily walked forward, taking a few steps into the forest to survey it, seeming to seek someone or something. In an instant, he reached out with his hand and the Force, gripping and reeling in an unfortunate squirrel, which disintegrated into purple dust as it hit the end of the Dark Staff, with even this detritus being greedily pulled into the alien artifact. Momentarily sating the hunger of his weapon, Verhoren reached out with the Force to try to sense his spectator's emotional reaction, if any, and in doing so, locate them.
After some deliberation and delay, it is granted limited communications on old Soviet frequencies and formats, and a video feed is projected of a council chamber of Yuris in various levels of facial hair and pallor, so as to not give away their clone nature just yet.
The head of the table, a Yuri with a blond goatee and short, tapered fade clears himself before he speaks up.
"Are you receiving us?" he asked, before asking once again in French, Russian, and German.
"We are Transylvanians..." the lead diplomat explained, emphasizing his accent as he did so while pausing to analyze the strange phenomenon produced by simply uttering two words.
"We are here to bring warnings and an explanation as to what has happened regarding yo-our arrival. It is vital that I relay this information to a person or persons of high authority. Do you have a discrete political attaché or perhaps this One that you speak of nearby?" he asked, waiting to see if his own pronunciation exhibited the effect as well.
He can sense clear repulsion as well as hints of fear but also aggression its unknown if they would flee or attack him fi discovered or feel threatend enough
Zombie king and BlackWatch Special Forces
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