Retrograde Diplomacy

Posted on Thu Aug 18th, 2022 @ 12:15am by Lieutenant Commander S'hib & Staff Warrant Officer Reo'thanra Sandtail

Mission: MISSION 0 - History Speaks
Location: In Orbit of T'hos - DSM Centulo One
Timeline: Current
1874 words - 3.7 OF Standard Post Measure

Iridescent dust, the powdered remains of a nearby moon stirred suddenly, ebbing and flowing against the vast hull of the lead Arten transport as they made their slow laborious trudge towards the vast industrial Sequus starport; the Deep Space Mining rig Centulo One.

It hung over the cracked and disjointed surface of T'hotos like jellyfish, its numerous tethered cables slowly lifting vast sections of the moon's surface to be dismantled and harvested for its raw resources; all to feed Sequella's sudden boom in growth in recent years.

Inside the station, T'hatay watched as another section of the moon, some 40 meters wide, was lifted through the crackling energy shield of the inspection bay.

"Can somebody please radio down to the team that brought this one up, they didn't put enough netting on the underside, got shit falling back to the surface... otherwise I think it looks good," T'hatay huffed as he clicked along the catwalk, staring down at the ruined surface of T'hotos with his oxygen mask clouding up.

"Sa'fee, can you take over for me?" He shouted over the bay, perking the ears of a slender Sequellian, her dainty form made even more apparent under the bulky protective equipment strapped to her body. "I have to make sure the pups don't wander off, steal a door or something..." He groaned, already walking towards an airlock.

"Yes, Boss... I'll get it rigged up for you just how ye like it." She quipped back, giving a mock salute with an oversized glove.

"Sa'fee, That was one time..."

"Yeah, and?! she wouldn't shut up about it!"

"No, you won't shut up about it you dirty mare!" T'hatay growled before Sa'fees' grin became an explosive laugh, then even more so after T'hatay made an obscene gesture with his left hand.

---
The Arten Mia'lothria class Super Freighter Was a Titanic vessel in scale , Stretching A Full Kilometer from stem to stern, And Nearly half as wide along its Beam. Resembling For all the world A Massive Cylinder, With a Tiny command section at the front, with Six Discs of Massive Cargo pods attached along its Slender spine, And Four Utility pods attached at the Rear of the vessel Housing the Ships Reactor systems and Impact Drive assemblies the Lower two pods, With Two Short, Truncated Cylinders marking the ships Warp Nacelles. The First of these Behemoths lumbered out of Formation with the other five, With the Various combat ships that made up the Cargo Fleets Escort Swirling around Like hornets around their nests. With the Cargo Runs starting, the Flagship of the Arten Fourth Fleet Locked itself down into a defensive overwatch position.

In Stark Contrast to the Ponderous, but Utilitarian bulk of the Super freighter, The Desert Warden class Fleet Carrier Was Sleek, with no space being wasted within its large Hull. Weapons blisters, Missile pods and Star Drone bays broke its Nearly uniform Grey hull With their Tightly locked armor Doors. its Inspiration was heavily drawn from the style of ships the Federation had designed. Consisting of a roughly Triangular Hull, with Rectangular Warp nacelles extending off of two Heavily armored, and integrated Pylons.

Aboard the ACDF Watchful Warden Admiral Opa'latan Azure-bay Stared down through the Floor mounted Screens at the departing running lights of the Super Freighter, And the Various support Craft that were helping guide it in, dozens of Tractor beams skittering from the two Empty Cargo pods the ship had come with, gathering up the agreed Upon Dilithium, his expression vacant with boredom. Milk Runs like this always bored him. Especially in Relation to the Increasingly infrequent anti Piracy Raids the ACDF would launch into the Nearby space of their homeworld. His thoughts drifted to the Federation Flag officers in his position, wondering if they were allowed to wield the awesome might of their fleets In any way that the ACDF was allowed to.

His private thoughts were broken as a young Snow Runner Staff Warrant officer approached him from behind, Her Armors Coolant pumps humming just loud enough to be heard over the Omnipresent thrum of the ship's Stellar Fusion Reactors. "Sir, The Crew of the ACCS Recession Relief report that the Loading procedures are Going slower than anticipated...but we are getting enough Dilithium to Make the procedure worth it," she said as she snapped off a Crisp Salute.

Opa'latan nodded softly, his ears pressing forwards as he watched the Brief flash of High energy particles from the Freighters engines, before turning his gaze back to the younger officer, his own Armor, a far more elegant and Well Decorated set befitting a flag officer such as himself hissing softly as the pump kicked up the heat for his own body temperature. "Excellent," he said, his voice a smoothly modulated tone, his expression hardening. "Ensure the Marine Forces We have in those Cargo pods Keep the Civilians Away from that cargo once its been Inventoried and secured."

"Yes sir," the Warrant said with another salute, before turning and striding away, her long tail swaying about in an unreadable emotion.

---

"Don't hiss at Sequr, you pointy-faced hort'ah!" T'hatay snorted loudly as he removed his mask, letting it hang lazily around his neck as the universal translator struggled to translate his thick native accent into something the Arten would understand.

"Sa rull my station and I will go where I Fuh'tra." He continued, a large hoof scratching the crude metal deck with a sharp scraping noise as he threatened to step over the Arten baring him from inspecting the pump lines that ran down the umbilical catwalks towards the ACCS Recession Relief

He was an imposing figure even for Sequus males, nearing eight feet tall with a thickly dreaded mane that spoiled over his muscular shoulders; there was a reason he was called the mountain that broke mountains, and this poor Arten before him was starting to test their fate.

"Move, or I will move you myself!" He snarled, his upper lip curling as he took another step forward, his booming voice perking the ears of others as they all stopped in anticipation.

"Hold your Eith'anats!" the poor Dune paw Arten before him said as he backpedalled, his hands raised up to try to stall the Sequus with an exasperated Whine. His compatriots scrambled around and past him, the Grav sled they were guiding into the station proper laden with Several dozen crates, all labelled Foodstuffs. "We're tryin to do dis as quickly as possible, but if your bosses would let us use the mass Transporters..." he added with a grunt.

"No transporters!" T'hatay bellowed, his nostrils flaring as he muttered in Sequus. "I have already explained that this station is gravitationally anchored to T'hos and T'hotos below and that every kilogram of rock, dust, piss and shit that comes and goes has to be monitored." He growled, his gravelly voice hanging over the Arten like an oppressive cloud.

"So we will do this as slow as we need lest we be punished by T'hos for eating her child..." He said with a menacing glare before sidestepping to glare at a pressure gauge with just as much ire as he had given the Arten.

The Arten rolled his eyes as he waved his work crew past Alien. "superstitious Prey," he muttered under his breath as he kept walking. "Acting like this is the first time a species has disassembled a Rock."

No sooner had his last words left his vulpine lips, thick hoofed digits grasped at the back of his suit, crushing coolant sacks in the process as their frigid fluids gushed and hissed out, spluttering onto the deck as he was lifted violently into the air.

"Do you feel like a predator now, little one?" T'hatay asked before shoving him against the wall face first, cloven fingers digging further into his armoured suit and pushing him against the cold metal like a hydraulic press. "Because I am not prey," He said softly, leaning his snout against one of the Artens' large fox-like ears. "Especially to you..."

The Dune paw was about to snap back his body tensing up as a loud Growl built up, before he was silenced by the Report of a Sonic Weapon snapping off a Shock. "Drop the Crewer." A Cold, Heavily modulated Voice Said as a tall, battle armored Arten Stepped up behind T'hatay, Well out of reach. "And I'll see he's properly disciplined For insulting you, our gracious host." The Arten Turned its helmeted face to Stare at the Crewer, the Optics of its Helmet burning a harsh Red, script across its Chest marked it as A Diplomatic Corp. Marine.

"I will not drop this man," T'hatay remarked as he slowly turned to face the new arrival. "He would break..." He snorted with a smile before making a point to slowly lower the Crewer as though he was a child, humiliating the Arten even further.

"But this is Sequus station..." He continued, his grip still firmly attached to the Crewer. "Sequus laws are applied here, not yours... you would know this if you read fine print. No, I will discipline him like Sequus."

The Marine made no move the Sonic pistol still clutched in its hand, its face unreadable behind the Full face helmet. "Sequus Laws do apply here," the Marine said after a long moment, its tail twitching behind it. "And What Crime has he Committed, beyond an insult." the Marine tensed slightly its head tilting slightly so the optics were firmly focused on the cowering Crewer. "Before you answer...Let me inform you that The Crime of openly insulting A host is something that the Arten Take Very Seriously."

"I'm sure you do, but like I said... this is Sequus station," T'hatay said in a low rumble as his free hand reached for the Crewer's tail, gripping at a bundle of fur tightly, letting the taught sensation linger for just a moment before the tuft of fur was ripped free.

"And he has been punished..." He grimaced after the painful howl, holding up the fur for the Marine to see as he let the Crewer go. "You punish him further, you insult me," He continued, shrugging slightly. "I take your fur too..."

The Dunepaw crewer Scrambled away yipping indignantly, his ears flat to his skull, but a Sharp glance from the Marine silenced any Protest He might have had. "I understand," the Marine said turning its Helmeted gaze back to T'hatay. "Please let me know if you have any other issues with our Crewers," it said as the crewers all scrambled away with their Duties, seemingly far more terrified of the marine than they were of the Sequus. It paused then turned to leave. "Myself or any of the other Marines will be happy to assist with any discipline issues."

T'hatay simply snorted before nodding deeply as a sign of respect, taking a brief moment to watch the Arten marine meander back the way they came.

"This is going to raise a few eyebrows..." He said quietly to himself as he examined the tuft of fur he was rolling between two fingers, raising it to his snout before pulling back. "But first I clean you."