***Saggitarius Arm – Lmir Domion’s Deep Space Observation Post***

***Travil, the Ambassador***

“You and your people should have everything you need,” the general informs me, pointing towards the containers which are covering the busy flight field. The area is brimming with workers who are running back and forth between the supplies in order to get everything ready for our imminent departure.

Considering that everyone knew that this event had been long since in the making, one might think that my people would be better prepared for this day.

My eyes wander to the time-indicator in the hologram in front of me and I nod at the general’s comment but do not allow my eyes to sway away from the holographic image which is displaying a representation of the solar system. On the inside, I am barely able to contain my desire to start the mission. This was what I had been trained for my entire life. To think that it almost would start off on a bad foot because of some logistics error was inconceivable.

For such a thing to happen in this day and age, had I not known the people involved, I would have called foul and accused someone of sabotage.

Our people were watching the conflict between the Galactic Societies and the Silent for decades as it slowly spread from a small disturbance at the edges of civilised space to a real incident on a galactic scale. We observed the first large G.S. fleet pass through our systems and paid our tribute, unaware of how the galactic landscape would change.

My predecessors were not alerted as they observed the G.S. sending out their punitive fleet from the galactic centre. Such expeditions had taken place in the past. The rulers of the galaxy did tend to show their might to uprising empires when the mood struck them. They were also very fervent in suppressing any upcoming race that violated their dogmas.

Hardly newsworthy to those who reigned over my people, so our failure to act in time could be called a combination of disbelief and overconfidence.

The Lmir Domion could claim over a thousand stars in the galaxy’s green zone, a band of stars that was far enough away from the galactic core where the G.S. ruled, but close enough to claim at least some importance on the galactic scale. The stars farther out in the Rim were too far away from each other to support any civilisation of significance.

If anyone had asked our leaders, they would have said that we were an important political body, ensuring the stability of this quadrant. Yet, to the G.S., we were utterly unimportant. Just another province in the political landscape.

And then the unexpected happened.

News arrived that the fleet that had passed us was utterly destroyed. The Hob, a race of merchants that travelled the whole galaxy brought the tale on the winds of the hyperspace, whispering the story to any who would dare listen and draw the ire of the core’s power. Because one thing was certain, the G.S. was afraid. They would strike out at anyone who dared to even consider siding with the enemy. The situation was unprecedented and all of my people agreed that the G.S. leadership would have to make an example out of anyone who spoke against them.

We weren't so foolish as to believe that the G.S. wouldn't make a sacrifice in the form of a little Dominion at the edges of its space if the opportunity arose. If not to punish true traitors, then to bring others to heel.

Up until then it was thought to be impossible that any race could stand up to the technological and economic might of the core-worlds which were a bastion of over ten million stars under the Galactic Society’s iron rule. Unassailable and undeniable, the core worlds pressured the rest of the galaxy with their doctrine and their ironclad ban on artificial intelligence.

But apparently one race managed to defy their will. A race that called itself humans, as the Hob had told us. My ancestors didn’t pay the news much heed at the time, expecting the G.S. to send another overpowering force to utterly crush the heretics who had violated the ban on researching artificial intelligence.

Hundreds of years passed us, as did the fleets that were sent by the G.S..

One after another, they vanished in the spreading void of the Outer Rim.

Now, on the dawn of a new age, my people finally have to acknowledge that we will be on the frontlines of a galactic war within our lifetime. Yet the G.S. still refuses to acknowledge their failed attempts in the open. Their missives from the core haven't changed over the years. If asked about the fleets that are sent through our space, they would be declared a colonization effort with a handwave.

Uncaring of the political truth, the light of the stars in the Outer Rim slowly diminished over the decades and then flickered out, vanishing from the sight of our best observation platforms.

The Lmir leadership finally had to admit that the G.S. awakened something capable of creating a war machine that could sweep their fleets aside like a leviathan could water. A force that was capable of utilizing entire stars for their purposes.

“You have to determine their plans, and what they intend for us,” Riar awakens me from my silent chain of thought. The strong female politician gestures towards the map I was watching.

On her behest, it scales up, showing us the whole expansion of the Lmir Dominion throughout the Saggitarius Arm of the galaxy. Farther out, what we call the Silent is pushing in on us from the outer skirts of the galaxy. In the centre, the golden core’s sphere of influence shines like a beacon, representing the G.S.

“You have to find a path that prevents our people from being caught between two fronts,” the politician continues.

One of the military advisors snorts in obvious contempt. “There is no way of negotiating with this foe.” He turns to face me. “Remember to get as much information back to us as you can. Your mission might be one of diplomacy, but in the end, our people have nothing to offer them in the grand scheme of things. We are caught between two giants, and once they clash we will be in the middle of it all.”

The general gestures for his adjutant to be silent, clearly agitated that the man dared to voice the truth without coating it in sugar. “He speaks outside his rights, but he isn’t wrong. The Silent and the G.S. are beyond us. The military leadership has judged that our combined forces should be just strong enough to stop the Silent strike-force that’s heading our way.”

Another of the military men scoffs. “Shouldn’t that alone be a point which puts us in a position that allows us to negotiate with these powers? How much time do we gain by stopping one strike force, a decade, a century? Shouldn’t it be enough to advance our own technology and to rebuild our fleets? I am also not certain that it is infeasible to subvert their forces. They must have been on the way for generations and weary of travel. It might be enough to offer them a solar system or two.”

Finally, I decide to share my thoughts, “That may be, but what about the next one, and the one after that? It is an old and sore discussion. Why would you expect our enemy to stop their own advances? The force that's driving them onwards over the course of centuries is beyond our ken. The Lmir Dominion is vast, but even we are sensing our limits. I travelled from one end of Lmir-controlled space to the other, and I can honestly say that those further in towards the galactic centre won't care about what happens to those on the frontlines. They won't see the war for another two or three generations.”

The general looks at his man as if he is an idiot, outrage showing on his face. “This isn’t a normal conflict. If this were a mere conflict between two biological races, you might be right. Fleets like the ones that the G.S. and the Silent are sending out aren’t built on a whim, and losing even one of them should hurt. Any normal race that isn’t propelled by an iron will or pure, religious fervour should lose its will to fight battles on a galactic stage – where conflicts take longer than any individual’s lifetime to play out.”

He thrusts a hand at the hologram, almost swiping through it. “But everything we have heard from the Hob points to the fact that the Silent are beyond such things. He said that they became one with their machines and that they are apparently as relentless as a machine in their cause.”

I close my eyes slowly and open them, trying my best to project calmness towards the man who clearly lost to his emotions. “Are you sure that we can trust the Hob? I don’t question the conclusions which your people spent decades to come up with. But I fail to see how the Hob could be an unquestioningly trustworthy source of intelligence. It must have its own agenda.”

“Of course, you are right.” He nods and rearranges his coat, clearing his throat upon realizing that he almost made a fool out of himself by reacting to his subordinate’s ill-spoken words with such fervour. “But we are unable to see how the Hob would benefit from lying about things that can be verified easily enough once we come in contact with the Silent.”

I turn my attention towards the sky, expecting our transport to arrive soon enough. “Trust me. Haven’t you bred me and my assistants for this job? Once I am with the Silent, I will find a solution to our problem. I will save our people.”

The assembled representatives nod solemnly. This project was their idea after all. A far shot, but it was their only hope to cheat what fate had in store for us.

The Silent had earned their moniker among my people for a reason. They didn't talk on the open communication channels. Our furthest scouting missions only got glimpses of their mega-structures as they tore apart planets to engineer them into something else.

Those who stood in their way were swallowed and overwhelmed. The Rhin, a powerful species further out from our area of space had turned their own worlds into fortresses strong enough to withstand everything the G.S. was willing to send at them and their last communication was one of desperation as their last world was buried under the wrecks of falling ships.

It was only a century ago that the Silent had acknowledged our existence. They had answered one of our many requests for diplomatic exchange with nothing more than a date, location, and a transport volume for an unimportant world on the fringe of our space – which suited us just fine. There was no need to inform the G.S. of our intent to open a dialogue with the enemy, considering that one of their fleets was nearby and expected to clash with the enemy right outside our space a few years from now.

“It doesn't look like they are coming,” one of the women comments in a disgruntled tone. “It's almost the promised time and none of our sensor platforms detect anything.”

“This is an underdeveloped planet without a defensive satellite system and we didn't exactly bring a full sensor suit with us,” I comment. “One of our own ships could easily avoid detection until we are already halfway inside the system. Have patience.”

I tried to show myself as the infallible ambassador I was supposed to be, but I couldn't quell the seed of doubt in my mind. It was true, one of our ships could evade detection from the single transporter we had in orbit. Our leadership hadn't dared to send more in fear of the G.S. detecting our double-handed play.

But the ships which were capable of such a feat were also only small scouting vessels which dedicated most of their tonnage to the machinery which was necessary to hide the ship from various detection systems. None of the vessels I knew of could even attempt to transport the volume of cargo that the Silent allowed us.

Then the General lifts a hand to his ear, arching an eyebrow. “The gravitational detection system just responded to something. It's already in orbit above us, but we can't detect anything else.”

“Only gravitational?” His adjutant furrows his eyebrows. “Even though the transport's sensor platform isn't the best, it should detect something... light, electromagnetic... something! It should be impossible to camouflage from all visible spectrums.”

“Guys... I admit that I don't know much about these things...” The politician starts shaking her head. “But shouldn't we rather be worried about the fact that something that's large enough to be registered on a gravimeter is entering the planet's atmosphere right above our heads? Is there anything of that size that is capable of landing on a planet's surface?”

I only raise an eyebrow at the hologram which switched to displaying the unknown spaceship dropping down from the void while the people around me start panicking.

Instead of watching our impending end through the hologram, I raise my eyes towards the sky where a gigantic fireball of ignited air from the entry-heat into the atmosphere is descending downwards onto the flight field. “If this is truly an uncontrolled descent, there would be no point in running.”

My words return some sanity to the rest of the group which was about to break and run like a herd of brainless animals. Sadly, our bravery evades the workers who were unloading the cargo shuttles as they choose to flee from the flight field.

Then the burning inferno of ignited atmosphere splits, unfurling like a terrible flower to reveal a gigantic vessel at least three times as large as the transporter that brought us into the system. Now revealed, the ship’s glistening surface reflects the distant sun’s light like a mirror as it slows its descent.

A sleek, teardrop-shaped hull falls towards us at neck-breaking speed, only to come to a complete halt right before impact. The flight field’s concrete dents a little beneath the leviathan of the stars as some sort of force-field makes contact with the ground. I am forced to close my eyes and raise a hand for protection as displaced air tears at our clothes, but that is all there is to it.

At last, the ship only stands there, towering at least two kilometres above us with the tip pointing towards the sky and with a base of about five hundred metres in diameter.

When it seems safe, I slowly lower my hand and cross it with the other one behind my back, taking note of the exact time. “Well, it seems like they are the punctual type.”

My comment releases some of the tension in the air and the others start breathing again.

While the rest of the group fights their fear of the impending first-contact, I myself have to struggle the hardest to hide my excitement over the fact that my mission finally begun.

Reacting to movement on the strange ship’s surface, I immediately straighten my back and steel my expression. This is my moment. I was chosen to represent my people in front of an unknown and alien intelligence.

Who could possibly know which expressions or movements might offend the Silent?

That was why I relentlessly trained to overlook any differences in physique or culture. To achieve my goal of finding a solution for my people, I would do my very best to understand the Silent and to find a basis for common communication and understanding between our two species.

The ship’s surface ripples, and then the glass-like substance flows to form a hole, a part of it extending towards us in what could only be a ramp.

My mind racing, I immediately reach various conclusions as I saw the ramp’s slightly concave indentation, noting that there were no stairs. Maybe the Silent were some form of intelligent goo? Or some snake or a worm? That would make stairs unnecessary.

Finally, a shape reveals itself in the opening and my mind comes to a stuttering halt as I am forced to process this utterly unexpected being.

A young, Lmir woman had stepped into the light of the day, so young to be almost called a girl. As I watched her with a stupefied expression, she squinted against the light and was forced to shade her eyes against the sun. In the process, her tight flight-suit displayed her pleasurable figure to anyone who wanted to steal a look.

Upon seeing us, she smiles and takes a step forward, simultaneously dropping down to her bottom.

I chose to ignore the undignified and childish ‘Weeee!’ which she had let loose upon sliding down the ramp which turned out to be a slide! She hadn’t just ruined my great moment by acting as the child she seemed to be. This definitely hadn't happened!

My mind turned somersaults at the situation. How in the universe had she gotten onto that ship? Had the Silent picked up some illegal settlers outside the Dominion’s space? It wouldn't be unheard of that a disgruntled group of outcasts would pack their things to board a civilian ship and to vanish in some far corner of the galaxy.

The woman-girl came to a stop right in front of us and patted down her bottom before taking my hand with a brilliant smile.

“Greetings! We come in peace!”

“Graaah.” Still unable to compute the situation, I let loose a less than intelligible tone like some uneducated caveman, certainly giving a worse performance than a diplomatic acolyte in his first year. Stars, I hadn't made such a fool of myself since the Admiralty had sent me to a Fezzen colony for training purposes.

For the first time, the girl’s expression turns worried as she looks down at herself while squeezing her boobs in a definitely unladylike manner. “Is something wrong? Did we get the proportions wrong? I admit that I scaled these a little, though the system assured me that this is within acceptable limits. Don’t tell me one of my siblings played a prank on me and gave me some horribly disfigured member of your species to copy. I was promised that this shape is the best blend of what is considered as appealing in your holo-casts!”