Diplomatic Relations between the Kha'ni and the Awakened Dreaming Clans

When the science vessel enters the system a squadron of five corvettes moves in to intercept. One of the ships sends a transmission "Your ship matches the pattern of a research vessel discovered by exploratory scientist Archmaster Kyu'el. Species name Kha'ni. Is this correct?"

A reply transmission is sent. Losm, wearing his black robe, and Tch'ref'ka, wearing a bronze robe and mask, would appear on the transmission.

Losm Speaks.

"Yes this is correct, I am Priest-Academic-Explorer-Senior Losm," He gestures to Tch'ref'ka. "This is Regem Tch'ref'ka, Duxmilla, leader of the envoy to the Clans. We greet you for the good of all."

The Transmission ends though the channel remains open, clearing awaiting a reply.

The being operating the radio declines to show their face, sticking only to simple transmissions. "You have been cleared to dock with the station. Bring no weapons aboard that are not intended as gifts. No more than five individuals in one group may be on the station at any given time. If you require more, the attending diplomat may make an exception. Only one group may be active aboard the station at any one time. . ."

The transmission continues on and on, stalling for time. Meanwhile the station scrambles to bring someone up from the planet's surface and to clear space to set up a comfortable meeting room. Up until recently the station had only served as a glorified warehouse and garage.

"If you understand and comply, please follow us for the proper docking procedure." The corvettes move around the science vessel, moving slowly as they approach the station and toward one of the few airlocks.

A return signal is sent with Losm speaking.

"We understand and comply, unless the limit on personnel can be increased however, the Duxmilla cannot come aboard. We would speak of this to said attending diplomat."

Transmission ends and the Ship moves with the Corvettes

Upon docking Losm is greeted by a robe wearing diplomat. "I am Boss Ziral, and welcome to our space on behalf of The Clans. I apologize in advance for any delays. You are only the second outside race to enter our space."

Losm bows and so do the four black arm-banded Kha'ni Acolytes behind him. Two carry extremely ornate boards, they look designed to fit together, one has a belt carrying many bags of different colored counters. The final one carries a small container. As well there are two Sand masked and robed Kha'ni standing back into the Kha'ni ship, they are armed with Goedendags and Rifles. However they are at ease, and Losm Speaks.

"Greetings Boss Ziral, We are pleased to make your acquaintance. However we must discuss the limit on personnel as I am not authorized to make binding agreements, and the Duxmilla cannot board without her bare minimum retinue."

She smiles and waves her hand dismissively. "The additional retinue is fine, bring them, it is no trouble."

Losm nods to the Sand Masked Kha'ni, they move off further into the ship and disappear from view. Losm speaks.

"This is good news to hear, with that business settled I may present this gift."

Losm gestures to the Small Container one of the Acolytes is holding. The Kha'ni holding the container removes the lid and approaches Losm so as to allow him to present the object to Ziral himself. Losm pulls out the gift, it is clearly a holographic projector. Losm activates it, and it projects a hologram of a Solar system. The holograms is a full color hologram. It soon zooms in on one of the inner rocky planets. It shows an overview of the planet then various scenes of the planetary surface. Riders on sand dunes, large caverns and canyons filled with Kha'ni, an underground lake of some sort. As the images flicker by Losm speaks.

"In addition there is a small presentation of recent Kha'ni history, however there would need to be some time to set that up." Glances at the Two Kha'ni carrying the extremely ornate boards before looking back to Ziral. "The Duxmilla and her retinue should arrive soon."

(Reserving the post to show I haven't forgotten, I need to be at a computer, not a tablet or phone.)

Sahib Ziral stares in amazement at the presentation, having never seen anything like a hologram outside of movie special effects. She continues to stare at the projector as the images flicker and blinks rapidly before composing herself actually to listen to the other ambassador. "Yes.. Yes we have set up our own presentation as well.. That projector is absolutely.. amazing. Here we are mining other worlds and I never would have imagined this was possible."

Losm bows and speaks.

"We have further presentations but this projector and it's Projection is gift from the Kha'ni to your People."

He puts the projector back into the container as the Kha'ni Acolytes hasn't moved during this time. Losm pauses after putting the projector down and speaks.

"I believe that the Duxmilla is arriving." He then turns to her approaching party as they come.

The Groups contains the Duxmilla, wearing her bronze robe and mask, as well as six attendants, each wearing bronze outer arm bands. Two in the back of the group are carrying a single large container between them. The Duxmilla upon arriving near the group bows, the attendants drop to a kinda of folded crouch with their heads bowed, and the Duxmilla speaks.

"Greetings from the Kha'ni Temporary Dominion, I am Regem Tch'ref'ka, Duxmilla. We have brought a gift from the Protector himself specifically to your High Leader."

She bows her head "I am Sahib Ziral, as appointed by Awakener Mysha, I greet you on behalf of the Awakened Clans. Please, follow me inside. Our custom is not to exchange gifts at the gate with our equals, but in the comfort of our homes." She turns and mutters something into her robe before turning to lead her guests into the station itself. The architecture is brutal and simple with many sharp edges and exposed ladders and crawlspaces within the main halls, showing that the station was put up in a hurry with no thought to refinement. In contrast the honor guard of soldiers blocking off most of the hallway are dressed in ornate full body armor with personal scenes painted or engraved onto their chestplates, helmets, and shields and stand projecting their own powerful auras.

Once the diplomats and their retinues have entered the station and their way shown by the passages that the guards block, Ziral hangs back to walk side by side with the Duxmilla or Losm, whoever is unaccompanied by a servant to their immediate right or left, in order to ease the unwelcoming atmosphere with her personal presence. "I was just apologizing to Priest-Academic-Explorer-Senior Losm for the delays to your boarding. You are only the second race that we have had the pleasure to entertain aboard this station. Our first was rather sudden and required the personal attention of Awakener Mysha to resolve without military action. We do not have the proper protocols set up just yet. I deeply apologize for any personal inconveniences our ignorance and unpreparedness has caused."

The Duxmilla responds.

"It is of no concern. Your people may not have much experience now, but you will learn. Our two peoples are different, but not so different as others. This is the opinion of the Protector. We hope you share this opinion. We will see."

"Is this an opinion that you yourself share?"

The Duxmilla curtly responds.

"It does not matter whether I share this opinion. I merely speak for the Protector. For the Protector does what is best for all. We hope you understand."

The soldiers within earshot break their rocklike stance and move in place as if having been standing in one place for too long. A dozen or more eyes behind darkened helmets shift their eyes from the spectacle of the retinue in its entirety to focusing on the Duxmilla until their eyes can no longer follow without moving their heads. Ziral manages to keep her displeasure buried by her relaxed body language and welcoming voice.

"I understand perfectly. You are the voice of your Protector, meaning that you are speaking on behalf of your leader. Understand that I speak for my Awakener, but also understand neither of our leaders are here to meet in person. It is only the three of us. For the sake of conversation, I've watched the video feed of our scientists meeting and read the notes taken by them, as I assume you have also. Is the opinion of the Protector yours as well?"

The Duxmilla responds.

"Yes. We have a presentation. It includes various footage of our history and more recent developments. We would present it if allowed to set up the required equipment. Further we would offer the data for said data and equipment to show it."

The Duxmilla gestures to the large box two of her attendants are carrying.

"As well when appropriate we would turn over the gifts to be given to your leader into your care."

Ziral nods in confirmation "This information has been made aware to me. Keep in mind that gifts given without courtesy are not considered gifts to us, but spoils," she warns the Duxmilla more overtly as a door opens into a converted reception area. Having learned from Clan Ky's interactions with Losm, standard seating is limited in exchange for lounges and piles of pillows as a stopgap measure to accommodating Kha'ni physiology on such short notice. Other Yuxu fill the room from the armored guards to more sparsely dressed attendants, both of whom freely mingle over the provided feast-like refreshments. On the far end is a thrust stage with seating on three sides.

While Ziral steps onto and disappears backstage a handful of Yuxu approach Losm and his group while only a few approach the Duxmilla.

"Cavus Milshal, Ziuhk, and Kyreel," an ornately armored male introduces himself along with his two similarly styled compatriots. "We're your armed guards for the duration of the event, which means we're mostly for show. If there's anything you need, feel free to ask us, however mundane. That machine looks similar to the one you brought aboard the Ky clan science wing. That was you, right? I'd hate to have mistaken you for another Losm."

An armored female approaches the Duxmila and nods to her before sitting on her knees in front of her. "Cavus Myrackhal, I'm part of the event's security detail. Are you comfy here, is there anything I can get for you?"

Each reply to the Yuxun that have spoken to them.

Losm speaks to the ornately armored male. "Yes that was myself and other Acolytes under me. You do not have to worry Cavus Milshal, there is no other Losm currently living. You would not have mistaken them. As to the machine, this machine is similar but is more appropriate for the circumstances." As he speaks the acolytes push one of the boards onto the other are lock them into place before continuing on the top board.

The Duxmilla replies to the armored female. "We are appropriately comfortable. There is nothing we currently need, however we thank you for your concern."

The Kha'ni near the Duxmilla seem interested in the room and the Yuxun, though are very disinterested in the refreshments. The Acolytes seemed focused on the now combined boards, moving various gems and crystals as well as the varied counters.

(To be read in the voice at 3:17-9:18)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Snrx6VSlXTY

The lights begin to dim save for a few stage lights that cast a warm orange glow onto the stage. Two robed adult sized figures exit and approach the end of the stage while four child sized ones follow. All of them turn their backs to the audience. They stand motionless for a while, just until the wait starts to become uncomfortable when the lights shut off entirely, bathing the reception hall in darkness. A spotlight snaps on to light the center of the stage where a lone Yuxu with their robed arms folded over their chest.

"Kha'ni!" it bellows accusingly to all present. "Have you come here from across the stars just to dazzle us with your glorified game board...? To share your story before we can share our own? Know that we Yuxu are not a people so easily awed! Our people's history has been fashioned in the chaotic forge of the universe, hammered by unrelenting sandstorms and tempered with the roar of engines and the hail of gunfire."

One of the figures tosses the top half of their robe onto the stage, showing their back tattooed with icons that are trimmed and separated from each other by stylized gusts of wind and sand that flow with the natural patterns of their scales. A smaller, more intense spotlight shines on one icon and the surrounding winds and sands of a verdant green world with white clouds next to a dead world. Just beneath are figures of uniformed and crudely armored figures standing on top of a pile of bodies in a bent and jagged cityscape with torn flags waving above them. The central figure continues to speak, telling the story with his hands and movements as much as his words.

"Our world begins with the exodus of the old. A green and bountiful world cast into the chaos of apocalypse. Where there was food there was barren earth. Where there was water there was salt. Where there were cities with untold millions working as the gears of infinite complex machines there wee only the scattered remains of the dead interposed between twisted metal like unusable slag in the wake of that machine's explosive destruction. In the face of this incomprehensible doom those who were left went mad and hastened the inevitable destruction of others and themselves, others gave up on living at all, having seen everything they knew and loved ended by the uncaring and indifferent universe and their own inept vain attempts to save what they had. And still others persevered through this hardship despite all odds. The same still happens today."

"Assemble enough items in a given set and patterns inevitably emerge, and just as so many tried and failed others inevitably succeeded. Those who triumphed in the face of cataclysm laid the foundations of the clans that exist today on the backs of the dead of both natural and unnatural causes. Dozens, hundreds, and thousands of bands and gangs struggled by picking the bones of what was left and taking the spoils of other's labor. The most successful were the professional warriors of forgotten nations, for their killing instinct was honed to a finer edge than the rest of the softer population and possessed the knowledge to both destroy and create where others could only do one or the other. Every clan is descended from these original seven, having split under... Less than hospitable terms. The scars of this savage and barbaric time are still seen today in the female exclusive clans whose distrust of the male sex is a malignant symptom of a more brutal and barbaric time."

The Yuxu in the audience all turn to watch, even the guards. The guard sitting next to the Duxmilla however notes their responses. Sometime during the first part of the performance Ziral rejoins the audience.

The orator stops the performance and walks as far as the stage allows him, spotlight following. He points toward the kha'ni still moving the pieces. "You there, moving back and forth in the shadows. Still yourselves! Is it your wish to return to your homes tell everyone you know and everyone who asks that you spent first contact with our species laboring on a projector? Your time will come... But that time is not now."