STGOD: DAS: Main Game Thread.

[Spyder]

"Contact the Armada," Trellen told his pilot at the comm. "Tell them not to start relaxing yet. Something odd is going on here. And have them send a couple more men. An engineer, too. I want our own people to take a look at these blast points."

Svetlana received a report from the Tristan, "We have finished processing the results from our thermal imaging. It would appear that those blasts occurred approximately 10 to 15 minutes after the initial attack, shortly before our arrival. This is strange, we know at least some of the wounds are from enemy fire, why bother with a vessel at all if you are able to smuggle bombs onbaord? There's not enough room in here to carry out a full visual inspection of the cargo, once we get to Huxley I strongly suggest we unload all the containers and carry out a full inspection, they wanted the cargo intact."

[Covenant]

The one in the lead covered her left fist with her right hand, bowed, and began to speak after standing straight again. "Ambassadorial Ambassador, Exceptionally Esteemed Emissary of the 4th Echelon of the 9th Rank of Important Persons, I am Archon Aya Inzeti, Ambassador of the Golden Sky Combine. Please, show us to your meeting chambers, so that we may discuss matters of importance comfortably, over tea."

There was a pause, as she smiled. "We also brought your gifts."

Cretecean Confederation
Covert Listening Post P3X-219
Landing Cavern

The trek to the meeting chambers was short and noisy. While the exterior of the base was unpreturbed dust on an airless rock, the interior hummed with activity. Massive arrays of ancient-looking computers buzzed to themselves as they performed whatever work it was that went on in this base. They looked like giant wafers stood up on their sides, and were cold to the touch. Somewhere below your feet, in the depths of the rock, was some giant angry piece of machinery whose din shook and groaned it's way up through the rock, and only the insulated interior base was free of the terrible racket.

And while quiet, the meeting chambers were hardly much to look at. Diplomacy and war were the unfortunate conditions visited upon those who were too stupid to stay home, and so a listening post was not well equipped to deal with either. It was, however, well equipped to listen. Which is what Tzi prepared to do after taking his seat, and gesturing for others to do the same. There was indeed some variety of dinosaur tea available, though Pete had to prepare it himself, and did his best to consider it an ambassadorial ambassaduty.

"It is fortunate for both of us, though especially for you, that you have demonstrated a propensity for affable behavior, as this seems quite condusive to expeditious transactions involving the exchange of merchandise for pecuniary gain. Do you not agree?"

Raptor marines we stationed at the door, curious in the Golden Sky delegation more than they were interested in the proceedings, and doing their best not to look hungry.

"I believe, that is to say I know, then that it is now the time to discuss the trade barter discussions for which you have made such a long and distant trek from your worlds. May I ask you to explain and express your interests? Trade between our person peoples is something most new and decidely original, and most unknown, as are your terms."

[Thirdfain]

Roman-G
Wysoka

"Don Juan, please decellerate from combat velocity while in-system. By interstellar custom and Polish law, your vessel is required to adhere to system traffic control regulations <<data follows>>. Your actions constitute a breach of those regulations, clearly transmitted by system command. Clearly you aren't from around here. Pirates are to be eliminated whenever possible, but this is Polish territory and here you will obey Polish law."

[Bugsby]

Trellen nodded at Svetlana's suggestion. "Targeting the cargo seems a likely reason for the attack. But why would anyone go after the kind of general supplies on this ship? Sure, foodstuffs and the like are in high demand, but also high supply. I can't imagine the black market rating on this shipment would be too good. There are certainly more valuable freighters to hit.

"We will conduct a full visual inspection once we reach Huxley. But as head of security for the armada, I don't want to allow any potentially dangerous materials onto my ships. I'm ordering spot-checks on the cargo as we are loading. It will take a little bit longer, but God knows we have enough personnel. I will see to the arrangements.

"And there is one more thing that concerns me. We know there were hostiles onboard this ship. The small arms fire and explosive charges confirm that. And yet when you arrived, you say there were no life signs aboard the ship. So where are the attackers? I would be interested to hear any theories you might have. Any of you," he added, including the Wanderer and the Dwarves.

The additional crew from the Oberin armada arrived shortly. They began loading in earnest, with spot-checks of the cargo performed regularly. Each box was matched to the cargo manifest, and all contents were verified.

[Imperial Overlord]

Sol
Mars Orbit

The accuracy of the long range scanner platforms of the Centrality was widely known. Anomalies were detected, cataloged, and when necessary investigated. The passive arrays, that had been dumped in system were detected, analyzed, and catalogued as space flotsam and then ignored.

[White Haven]

The ROA ships shifted their fire to the defenseless ships, showing no mercy as their weapons fire tore into the pirate ships.

"Pirate vessels, you have attacked an ROA convoy. Four of your ships are going to be wiped out. Now, stand down, kill your engines, weapons and shields and prepare to be boarded. Non compliance will be met with destruction."

One ship does just that, drives dying quickly, its missiles exploding mid-flight, shields shimmering and collapsing away with frantic speed. The other...the other tries to run, corkscrewing madly in a desperate evasive maneuver and launching crude decoys in all directions.

[Spyder]

"And there is one more thing that concerns me. We know there were hostiles onboard this ship. The small arms fire and explosive charges confirm that. And yet when you arrived, you say there were no life signs aboard the ship. So where are the attackers? I would be interested to hear any theories you might have. Any of you," he added, including the Wanderer and the Dwarves.

"It is possible that those responsible left the scene aboard the attacking vessel. Obviously this operation didn't proceed according to plan, hence we are here as well as the cargo. My theory is that a pirate vessel attacked the freighter, knowing it would be here either form the logged flight plan or from crew members that were in on it. I believe the initial attack was intended to take out the cockpit and flight recorder, however we know pirate weapons are notoriously imprecise, the initial attack failed instead rupturing the forward cargo hold. The pilot then activated the distress beacon, which we all detected. Knowing they only had a limited amount of time, the crewman finished the job themselves while trying to cover their tracks. If we were to assume all damage came from the pirate vessel then we would be able to write this off as a random pirate attack with no reason to look into the parent company, this is why they attempted to make the detinations responsible for the death of the pilot and the destruction of the flight recorder look as though they were caused from a missile impacts."

[Agent Fisher]

The ROA ships shifted their fire to the defenseless ships, showing no mercy as their weapons fire tore into the pirate ships.

"Pirate vessels, you have attacked an ROA convoy. Four of your ships are going to be wiped out. Now, stand down, kill your engines, weapons and shields and prepare to be boarded. Non compliance will be met with destruction."

One ship does just that, drives dying quickly, its missiles exploding mid-flight, shields shimmering and collapsing away with frantic speed. The other...the other tries to run, corkscrewing madly in a desperate evasive maneuver and launching crude decoys in all directions.

The missiles from the ROA fleet streaked towards the running ship. As D.E.W fire lanced into the running ship, the three transports turned about. From the second transport, twenty Penry dropships launched, their cargo Marine Boarding Pods. The dropships headed towards the surrending pirate vessel, two diverting to latch onto the space right behind the bridge, four of them heading towards the area of the engine room, the rest spacing themselves out along the ship.

[Cincinnatus]

Jargrim Vonral took a moment to consider the words of the Oberin and the mercenary.

"Your theory of events is sound, Lieutenant Svetlana Markov. Has anyone found the crew manifest yet? If we can run a background check, we may get lucky and discover someone affiliated with a known group that could have been responsible. Whoever the plant was, he must have been skilled in demolitions. The skill it took to make the shaped charge blasts look like missile strikes is all the more impressive if the criminal responsible was in a rush.

"Captain Llam Trellen is correct, it seems odd that pirates would attack this vessel over the cargo it was supposed to have been carrying. We should look into Pegasus shipping and see if they have any involvement with illegal smuggling operations. Also, someone should try to root out any black market operations on Huxley, and see if any criminals were expecting smuggled contraband from the Minke.

"If this ship was smuggling something, then it is entirely possible that the pirates were successful and made off with it. If that is the case, then if we can find out what that contraband was it may provide some clue as to who was responsible for the attack."

[Agent Fisher]

Sol System
Earth
Warsaw, Polish Republic, Pałac Prezydencki

ROA Ambassador Michael Shatner walked into the room, bowing his head to President Wiśniowiecki. He was here today to discuss the ROA's pledge of support alongside the Polish Republic.

"Mr President, thank you for seeing me." Shatner said. "I do believe you have been told why I am here."

[Thirdfain]

Presidential Palace
Warszawa
Poland
Earth

The gallery where the president of the Polish Republic had chosen to recieve his vistors was long, paneled along one wall with expensive wood, and across the other with great panes of window glass set in wrought iron. Dark, aged paintings of ancient revolutionaries and politicians looked out at the ancient spread of Warsaw's Old City, the five square miles of centuries-old brick and stone structures surrounded and shaded on all sides by the precipetous mounds of the arcologies. Monuments and statues to battles, ancient defeats and victories, lined the broad throughfare below. The eight monuments to the eight occupations and burnings of Warsaw could be seen in the distance, spires of marble casting long shadows over the quaint Royal Palace below.

The President's almost academic form could be seen standing before the long window, gazing out at the land which had elected him it's leader.

He shook Shatner's hand firmly, smiling as he shook it. "It's good to see you, Michael," he said warmly. "I'm glad we could meet on such short notice."

The American smiled. "Of course, Mr. President. We could hardly waste time considering the situation."

President Anton Wisniowieki looked down at the Ulica Nowy Świat below. There were crowds gathered below, teaming masses lining the thoroughfare and crowding around the bases of buildings. The blue, white and red of the Republic hung in banners from every streetcorner, and their was an air of pageantry in the whole affair.

Grim pageantry. The Ulica was dark with the precise formations of men, packed to both sides with figures marching shoulder to shoulder. Corps standards flew, gold and red and white, stitched with the names of distant campaigns, over the serried ranks.

The figures were bulky, their field browns stretched over rounded nemourlon combat armour. They sang with their visors off, a quarter million voices raised in martial tune. The strains of the Polish national anthem, unamplified, could be heard even at Wisniowieki's vantage point.

"The North Galactics can not be allowed to continue in this fashion. It appears our mutual concerns for the nature of their alliance were well-founded."

The marching muster of Army regulars snaked into the distance, towards the grand spaceport where the troop transports lay. The blocky tan forms of tanks could be seen in the distance, and EMV gunships buzzed by in matched pairs.

"I'd like to pass a bill before the Coalition, calling for a peacekeeping excursion towards the region, towards neutral space. I'd like your assistance in the bill, and your assistance in the peacekeeping mission."

[Agent Fisher]

Presidential Palace
Warszawa
Poland
Earth

Michael nodded, smiling grimly. "We of course will help with the bill, though personally, I doubt adding our voice will do much. As for helping with the excursion, well, I've been authorized to pledge our support up to and including two complete Carrier Groups." He looked out at the ground forces. "And we will be able to include two complete army groups as well, about 30 divisions. Though I expect this will largely be a naval peacekeeping force."

[Thirdfain]

"Excellent. I don't think the North Galactics will be so quick in throwing their weight around next time."

[Agent Fisher]

The ambassador nodded. "Yes, sir, I don't think they will, either. If I may be so bold as to inquire what forces you were planning on committing, sir?"

[Spyder]

Presidential Palace
Warszawa
Poland
Earth

A message arrives indicating that a "Mr Eizer" representing the Starborn Open Corps is requesting an audience.

[Thirdfain]

The ambassador nodded. "Yes, sir, I don't think they will, either. If I may be so bold as to inquire what forces you were planning on committing, sir?"

"That depends entirely upon the actions of the NGTO, now, doesn't it? We have plans in the works for everything from a single Carrier division to the entire battle arm of the Fleet. Frankly, we're pulling everything in for preparation and concentration at the major bases, except the pickets. We'll be ready for anything."

[Redleader34]

Presidential Palace
Warszawa
Poland
Earth

A Message appeared that a Santo Soren from the Trans-Genetic-Alliance would like to have an audience with a Polish Offical.

[Redleader34]

BREAKING NEWS NOW, LIVE ON TGA-1 NEWS NETWORK

Hi I'm Dan Ratherson," began one reporter, "and I'm Kagome Kurata"

responded a female kitsune

"and here is TGA News Now!, live from the space station New Mombasa Heights." The News intro would play, and then Dan would start the show off with

"From the capital of New Mombasa" Dan continued with"In the Military Capital of New Mombasa, Protests broke out near and around the military command building, after the Uche announced a plan to "back down" from military action against the Heralds. Several sources have stated that statues of the Uche are being burned in effigy, and buildings that bear his name are being marked with graffiti!"

Kagome would speak, saying " According to our live correspondent, Stuart Reeves, "Several chief Generals and Admirals signed a statement that stated in part that

1. We will not be cowed by inferior forces
2. The Collation is a bullying group, which wants to extend its influence to all of Known Space
3. The Poles are using the Collation as a front for the title of hedgemon of the galaxy
4. The Signing of this treaty was unlawful under Article 4 of the Acts of Confederation.

"In fact," Kagome would say "his last words to our station were" " They are going to rebel, call the..." She smiled darkly "and then the signal cut off to us." Dan looked at the woman, with a face of pure horror, as he paused for about 15 seconds, and then started with more of the story.

"As we were conversing about" he said, in a voice which would seemed to be drained of feeling "A Statement flying around the rumor mill is that Fleet Admiral, Fox McSirrus, in charge of the Fleet heading towards the Heralds had somehow started this massive protest. However all civilian channels to the fleet are being jammed right now."

Kagome would finish the show with a common segment "Word of the street"

"And now, the Word on the street is prought to us from this protester, from Collective Drone 1020-D

"I will not 'stand down" because some people are "afraid" of us showing some balls! We will not be cowed by Poles, or Chinese, or Anyone! Power to the NGTO!"

That would end the broadcast.

[White Haven]

As the docking clamp of the approaching Polish transport slams into the hull of the League ship...it abruptly leaves the hull just as quickly, riding a wave of telekinetic force as the visually-unassuming transport's defenses manifest. Beyond that, it's largely ignored, as the psykers within the hull lance the force of their thoughts into the void beyond. Eyewatering bolts of lightning blaze into existence, tracing jagged pathways between its hull and the closest screening ships of the enveloping fleet, accompanied by a psionic howl of blatantly apparent to even mild receptives throughout much of the solar system. The mental scream boosts upwards into a full-blown interstellar transmission of collossal proportions, pronouncing to the League a simple message: Poland has killed us!

Four of the warships unfortunate enough to be nearest to the enraged psyker coven are mere frigates, and those simply burn. Shields flare like burning soap bubbles, dying in mere moments, and lightning raves across the hull. For a brief period, the hill manages to resist...but then the hull bu ckles inwards, and jagged bolts of lightning spray out the far side, each of the four ships simply ripped to fragments. The fifth, a heavy destroyer, is more resilient; its shields fail, but the hull withstands the play of lightning across its surface, at least for a time. Whether that would have continued is a moot point, however, as the ship shudders, twitches in space, and is then torn in half by raw force of mind over the space of several seconds. Atmosphere spills out into space, accompanied by a hail of bodies and debris, until another hail of lightning guts both halves, turning them into no more than blackened half-shells.

The forgotten exile, floating in deep space behind the transport, twists in place, his senses cast outwards, feeling the carnage on the far side of his former comrades. A message billows outwards, one intended for him, but easily received by anyone else nearby, I forgive you, now burn!. Alone, without the close support of others of his kind, he can't manifest the awe-inspiring destruction displayed by the shuttle ahead, but there's a nearer, more vulnerable target. The transport craft, spinning away from the embattled League ship, begins to glow with heat, its fragile hull climbing from dull red up into a lively orange, the waiting assault troops and the ship's crew burning alive, systems and components melting into useless slag.

An EM signal radiates from the shuttle at the same time, delivered on a deadman switch from the moment the assault ship locked into place. The message is simple: "You were warned, now pay in blood."

[Thirdfain]

Even as the League of Thought vessel commenced it's horrible assault, the guns of Earth began to fire. Fractional-C hyperkinetics impacted the tiny vessel, seemingly vanishing with soundless blasts, disapating vast clouds of plasma into the ether as their mass transformed instantly to pure energy. Streams of maser fire lashed out again and again as the hellwhips of the Polish fleet searched for blooddy revenge.

The first volley of torpedoes was tossed aside. Some stopped dead in space, sparking, internal workings ruined. Others weere turned and hurled back from whence they came, tumbling until their semi-intelligent minds realized the insane forces being levered against them by the enemy and self-destructed before they could harm their sources.

One got through. For a second, brilliant light occluded the firestorm surrounding the psychic construct which was the League warship. Then another, and another. Brilliance filled space.

When the light faded, there was nothing left but a few atoms, the vaporized remnants of a dozen mostly human bodies and a starship.

[Imperial Overlord]

Sol
Mars Orbit

Energy emissions around a small bunch of previously unimportant objects above the elliptic had triggered a new burst of interest from the Centrality's navy. As per standard operating procedures during this time, a message was sent to Sol Traffic Control informing them of the objects' presence the Centrality's intent to dispatch ships toward them in the interest of keeping everything calm.

Then a psychic shriek registered on countless instruments. Energy ripples passed through Actuality Spheres and many arcanists turned their heads toward a distant scream. A thousand sensors were refocused in an instant.

[Cincinnatus]

Sol System
Earth Orbit

Captain Stodir Totasitis had watched the battle between the League of Thought transport and the Polish fleet from the bridge of the Bitzokugar with rapt attention. He was just about to offer his ship's aid to the Polish authorities when the psychic's vessel exploded spectacularly.

"I don't understand? Why didn't they just surrender? Surely they didn't think they could get away with blasting a fueling station with their engine wash like that?" asked the ship's executive officer after a few moments of shocked silence.

"King's balls, I hate psychics," Totasitis mumbled to himself. He had heard that the League of Thought could be temperamental, but this... he couldn't see what the commander of the transport could possibly have been thinking. And now there would very likely be war, war right next door to the Kingdom of Isdenestilom. "Comsdwarf Mosal Ingshik, send word of this back to Isdenestilom. The King will want to know what happened here. He is not going to be very pleased."

[Dark Hellion]

New Times Square, New York City, New York State, The United States of America, Terra, Solar System

Timestamp: 8945-9a86, 1535 hours local time

Event: Diplomatic Tour with Senator James Hudson Smithe, Ambassador Johnathan Miller Ewell, and various staff.

Flanked by guards, MPs and various United States dignitaries, the Emissary scanned the small crowd that had been chosen to represent the nation. A large percentage consisted of children, perhaps to represent prosperity, or some other symbolic nonsense that the biologicals liked. The Senator continued to chat about some similarly asinine topic, which conversational sub-processors handled, leaving the major parts of the Emissary's mind free.

The U.S. was a strong nation, with a proud history. In a few millennium humanity would probably have grown enough to swallow up the territory of the Heralds, and having as many major powers on friendly terms would ensure the survival of the Purpose. Perhaps when they had finally lost their way as well the Xylyx would come to them. Until then, the Heralds would treat them as reluctant pieces of The Purpose, and hope that they would be allies in The Future. Surely humanity would eventually see the glory that their destruction would bring. Why would they resist such a fate. One cannot go against the will of god.

A break in the conversation pulled the Emissary from it's musings. A secretary had wandered over to the Senator to deliver a message. A quick scan of the Secretary and Senator revealed many subtle clues that the Emissary hoped to use.

This must be about the combat in the Sol system. We will never understand such destructive impulses. Oh, and may i congratulate you two, as chemical scans show a great deal of cross contamination. May i presume that you have moved your relationship to that of a sexual partnership?

The secretary blushed bright red and the Senator, looking flustered prepared to shout. Quickly scanning its databases, the Emissary discovered the personnel files on the Senator, noted the marriage certificates, cross-referenced with former politicians who had extra-marital relationships, and making note of the cultural taboo that this represented formulated a quick response, interjecting before the angered politician could even speak.

However, such readings could also simply be because of the close proximity in which the two of you would have to work. i am sorry for my misunderstanding of human relationships.

In the back of it's mind, the Emissary filed this small tidbit of information. Blackmail was, his research had discovered, an important part of human politics. The most advanced machine of the Heralds would not be left behind in this regard either.

As the befuddled Senator and secretary wandered off, a small girl wandered over, carrying a large bundle of balloons.

"S'fer you M'ser Em'serry," she squeaked out, through missing teeth and the understandable fear of a little girl staring at a robot seven times her height.

Thank you

The Emissary bowed, becoming almost a caricature as it leaned over to accept the tiny balloons from the small child.

Interrupting this serene scene was a squeal of tires and a small crash. A small ground car, of the type still used by some of the poorer residents of the city crashed through the barriers that formed the buffer zone around the meeting, powering its way towards the center of the delegation at over 100 km/h. The various guards turned, rushing the myriad VIPs out of the way, but the Emissary quickly calculated that they would not succeed.

There was 3.23 seconds until the car would impact with the small grandstand that had been set out, 1.48 until it reached the position of the Emissary. Rapid flashes of battle programing and diplomatic algorithms screamed through the electronic brain of the Emissary. The attack represented little threat to it, however numerous humans would lose their lives, many children. Humans placed extreme value on their progeny, and on acts of selfless heroism in their protection. The Emissary calculated a high probability that action would serve to give future credit to its factions political and military operations. It would act. They would see the fury that would oppose the angels.

[rhoenix]

Cretecean Confederation
Covert Listening Post P3X-219
Landing Cavern

The walk through the hewn corridors was short, though the differences were both startling and fascinating. Large disks on end were their computer cores, and deep below them, some strange machinery was shaking the cavern and groaning at regular intervals. Once they reached the insulated interior, the worst of the noise was blocked.

Immediately after they entered the room, the Archon's two aides went to work unloading the large crate they had carried, revealing a selection of some of the finest Gliesan teas in cans, bolts of fine silk, and a stack of books.

Afterward, the three could see the small surprise of the Ambassadorial Ambassador Tzi as they removed their suits, revealing them to be powered armor that extended their height about a meter. Even with that, the three were still not too much shorter than the Ambassadorial Ambassador. The three took their seats as the Ambassadorial Ambassador took his. If the three noticed the Confederacy marines in position by the door, or how they attempted not to look hungry, they did not show it.

The Archon Inzeti for the Golden Sky Combine was surprised and pleased that these beings shared the same custom of drinking tea during talks, as Pete steeped and poured a strong brew for the Ambassadorial Ambassador and the three of them, smelling of licorice, strong coffee, pepper, and mint for the three. It seemed that some things truly were universal, thought Archon Inzeti as she took a grateful sip.

"It is fortunate for both of us, though especially for you, that you have demonstrated a propensity for affable behavior, as this seems quite condusive to expeditious transactions involving the exchange of merchandise for pecuniary gain. Do you not agree?"

"I do indeed, Ambassador Tzi," said Archon Inzeti with a smile. "We are also gratified to see such things as tea appears to be something in common already."

"I believe, that is to say I know, then that it is now the time to discuss the trade barter discussions for which you have made such a long and distant trek from your worlds. May I ask you to explain and express your interests? Trade between our person peoples is something most new and decidely original, and most unknown, as are your terms."

Smiling a bit more widely, Archon Inzeti replied, "I bless you for wishing to come right to the point. Very well - we offer a trade agreement for our silks and teas and other goods, in exchange for some commodities that your Confederation has to offer. We wish to extend our borders, and you to extend yours toward one another to have contiguous space. We wish to have travel between our peoples to be encouraged, to whatever terms you are comfortable with. Lastly, as a separate and unconnected proposition to the previous, we ask you to consider joining the North Galactic Trade Organization with us."

With that, she took another grateful sip of the tea.

[Dark Hellion]

.63 seconds had passed since the Emissary had started its processing. It would take action.

Its massive frame lurched impossibly quickly, a single stride stepping over the small child, the armoured cloak which had been sitting in its passive cape-like form slithered into a billowing overcoat of armoured plating. It raised its arms and dug massive claws into the permacrete of the ground, null-grav generators switching off, cracking the pavement around its feet.

The cars impact rocked the Emissary, over a dozen tons of metal halting the small vehicles movement with surprising ease. The metal cloak wrapped itself in a semicircle subsuming the front of the car. The cloak wasn't meant for such usage, but battlefield innovation was a high priority in such situations. It was a very useful thing too, as several hundred kilos of improvised explosives detonated into the large funnel that was the semi-ablative armoured coating. Claws dug into the ground, shields flared violently, the outer surface of the large construct becoming pitch black. Sparks flew from the interacting shields of the plated cloak, and inertial compensators screamed, the air around the robot visibly twisting. The windows in the buffer zone blew out, showing the area in broken safety glass.

On queue, following the loud explosion two small vans and a small truck pulled around, disgorging eight masked me, nervously clutching small assault rifles and machine pistols. The expected carnage had been averted by the large alien machine, but where it stood was a hemisphere of metal and a large flaming mass of twisted metal. Grinning the men stepped forward to gun down the fleeing representatives, when a massive voice boomed over every PA system for a dozen blocks.

Get Down! Everyone!

From the twisted wreckage of the car the Emissary stood. Flaming gels dripped off its frame, gnarled metal sliding out of the small gaps in the cloak. The massive hellish figure flamed and took a second stride, weapons flipping forward and powering up as the massive voice boomed out again, louder, blowing out speakers and echoing down the streets of massive skyscrapers

Heretics! Cowards! Infidels!

With the first two words the powerful anti-material railcannons spit slugs, each one pounding into a van, picking it up briefly before the projectiles blew, catching the van's crew and incinerating them. An arm raised at the third word, four 20mm projectile launchers spewing anti-personnel death at the second van. Caseless rounds churned up the permacrete, van and crew, incendiary gel and flechettes mincing the men into gallons of flaming mush. The final two men who had come in the truck stood there, transfixed in terror.

The Emissary charged them, moving impossibly fast now that it's grav-nullifier was reengaged. Huge clawed hands lifted the several ton truck, bodily heaving it thirty meters down the street. A single backhand served to accelerate one of the would be terrorists into a building, at several times the speed of sound. Five half meter long claws punched through the other terrorist as the Emissary picked him up. The terrorist managed to squeeze off several shots into the Emissary's face before a single vicious shake caused the man to drop the useless machine pistol.

Striding back to the shaken delegates he checked his internal clock. 9.36 seconds. Inefficient. Prevention of civilian casualties was unacceptably inefficient. He sent a message to Central Intelligence to have combat units and other Emissaries avoid this prevention and leave it to biologicals if at all possible. Internally it shook its head, what kind of foolish species would put so much effort in protecting such easily damaged and easily replaced parts. Sentimentality would be the end of biologicals.

Broken glass crunched underfoot as it returned, dropping the man heavily in front of the astonished Secret Service officer who had with this action become the acting commander of the situation.

i believe that this man has not suffered lethal injuries, if my understanding of human biology is correct. He may be capable of indentifying the rational behind this attack, for i am baffled by it. They had clear inferiority of arms and yet chose a violent, aggressive attack manner. Biological warfare patterns are highly confusing to myself, i must admit. i hope my handling of this situation was satisfactory, my calculations showed that it would be an advisable course of action, although i had severe doubts about my use of force. Would my anti-tank weaponry been more appropriate? i would not want to insult your notions of warfare.

With this it left the still dazed officer and the bleeding man and walked back to the small girl, who remained in her spot, watching the Emissary intently, suppressing small sobs and wiping tears off her face. Again bending like an overly complex stick figure the Emissary looked her in the eyes with its blank, opaque black face.

Are you OK, human child Susan Annabelle Paxton, SSN 987-86-5431? I detect no physical trauma, although i will admit that my sensors are not subtle enough to detect the electrochemical changes that would signal psychological damage. Is everything alright with you, or do you require medical attention for which i should patch into local 'nets and obtain?

Using her individual name was a very clever move, the Emissary thought to itself. Humans placed great emphasis on individuals and their health, even to the disservice of the majority. The small child crouched, covering her legs, a quick scan revealing urine. "T'anks M'ser" she managed as her screaming mother scooped her up, showering her with kisses. Individual affection, how disgusting. The woman turned to it, sighing with relief. "You'll never know how much this means to me," she sobbed out. A quick search of the networks and some simple arithmetic gave the Emissary its answer.

U.S. $1,345,987.00 as of the end of the Fiscal Year.

It crunched away, leaving the astonished woman. Turning to one of the guards who now formed a perimeter around the retreating delegates. It decided that it would try out conversation now that its battlefield processors had been put into standby.

The advertisements are correct. New York City is quite exiting.

Leaving the speechless man, it thought about how well the first meeting with the U.S. had gone. Perhaps negotiation was not the tedium that it believed it to be. It sent a message to Central Intelligence. Personal contact was not as arduous as initially predicted.