F’gellig, Subsecretary of Foreign Affairs, Junior Member of the N’Rog Council of Elders, was bitterly tired as he sat up on the Councils’ raised dais. The massive N’Rog (well over 300 pounds and very satisfied with that fact) was wrapped in the traditional robes of a Council Member, although a junior one at that, and being that he had been up for over 36 houregs, he was quite unhappy. The N’Rog Federation was currently undergoing a brutal civil war, and fighting between the Liberal and Military factions was growing worse day by day. Why, F’gellig himself had spent most of the last three days trying to put out political brush fires, coping with sudden crises’, and avoiding being shot at by rebels who roamed the streets of the Capital City. Why, just three days ago two senior members of the N’Rog Council of Elders (both Liberals) had been assassinated, throwing the Council itself into an absolute uproar. F’gellig himself didn’t see what all the fighting was about. It had only started after the strains between the two power-groups broke over the proposal (a proposal mind you) to move the N’Rog capital planet to a more defensible location. The N’Rog homeworld sat directly in the middle of the Core Sector, and the alien worlds who were jostling for independence were just too close, according to the Liberal factions viewpoint. Fighting had grown worse day by day, and now he had to deal with these furg heads. The dark, hot Council Room was quite small compared to the Federation Room, where most of the N’Rog’s machinations took, place but privacy was quite necessary, F’gellig assumed, for this particular meeting.
The two aliens that stood before the raised dais didn’t even come close to his height level, a psychological intimidation idea deliberately chosen by the Council early during its formation nearly 2,000 years ago. And both these aliens were sweating rivers.
Perhaps it is the heat, F’gellig mused. Most other races did not tolerate very well the N’Rog homeworlds’ temperature, humidity, or high gravity. Only the very alien machine races like the Mandru and the Junkions seemed unaffected by the living conditions of the planet. But these aliens, both senior members of the Federation Assembly, needed his help.
As F’gellig looked down upon them through slitted eyes, waiting for the appropriate minutes to pass before finally noticing them, he noticed the stark difference between the two aliens. The tall one was clearly a member of the brutal Trierion race, a powerfully-built species of tyrannosaroid-like aliens who had ruled a vicious, expansionistic empire before the N’Rog conquered them during the Dionii Wars. Their disgusting habit of eating their dead (and the war dead of other races), their foul policy of sexual enslavement of females of other races (and their own), and their hyper-aggressive natures made them enemies of nearly any race who encountered them. Luckily for them, the N’Rog official policy of “cantonizing” kept all twenty-eight races that the N’Rogs’ had under their rule apart and divided, with the only official contact between races being here in the Federation Room.
The other alien, a blue-haired humanoid, was known across Federation space as technological innovators, creating new commercial and military products off the tops of their heads. And now word had reached the Council(and F’gellig) that these aliens, the Breen, had allied with the Trierions and the blue-skinned Arkonides in a so-called “Free Alliance” whose goal was to break away from the Federation altogether. So, at this moment, F’gellig felt nothing but disgust and anger at these two opportunistic aliens, for the Federation was rapidly falling apart, N’Rog fleets were firing on each other, and these yecks could do nothing but add fuel to the flames.
“So,” F’gellig finally spoke to the dinosaur-like Trierion, “The Breen Ambassador here says that he is concerned about a declaration of war being made against you by the Vahran and their allies. I thought maybe you could shed some light on things and why these fellow Federation members felt compelled to do such a thing?”
The green-skinned Trierion puffed out his chest and spoke in a deep, gravelly voice, “Both declarations were based solely on the way of life of my people. Both parties seek to end the way our cultured exists. That alone is clear.”
“Were they specific?” F’gellig inquired casually.
“The Tolneps’ comments occurred during diplomatic dialogue. We barely began to speak and they interrupted with a monologue. It barely consisted of three lines…the third one being a declaration of war from them.”
“Perhaps there was a misunderstanding or concept missing?” F’gellig asked. “I gather that you were simply negotiating and the Vahran found your race or culture offensive and decided to declare war on you?”
The Breen Ambassador stepped forward and spoke,
“As you know, the Quintessons are a machine race. There seems to be a conflict of cultures.”
The Trierion interrupted, “The Vahran do not like the fact that we eat those we are at war with, alive or dead….they feel our culture is tainted because we eat those we kill as well.”
F’gellig was repulsed at the thought of the tyrannoids eating live people, but merely said, “Is this correct?”
The Trierions' massive tail moved rapidly back and forth, in a movement F’gellig recognized as agitation but the rex merely replied, “Yes”. Its steel flinty eyes were as dark as blackest night, revealing no emotions.
F’gellig thought wearily for a moment, and then said. “They would be in violation of Federation law to move against you.”
The Breen spoke up. “To be sure……we will not make an offensive move unless they do, we assure you.”
F’gellig reiterated “Any movement of warships into your sphere of influence would be a violation of your space and territory.”
“We plan to defend ourselves,” the Trierion grumbled loudly, his deep voice echoing around the small, high ceiling room. “However, if they push too far, we will be left no other alternative. I hope you understand.”
“You have the right to defend yourself,” F’gellig again acceded. “But the Federation will intervene if undue hostilities occur against a peaceful Federation member.” F’gellig knew this moment was critical, for the Federation Navy was currently in the midst of savaging itself with repeated attacks, and far too many ships had been lost to avert serious fighting between these aggressive minion races. He then quickly made a decision.
“If you are attacked you may defend yourselves with measured force.”
“Very well,” the Trierion grumbled. Its claws were moving now, into and out of its sheaths.
From high upon his dais F’gellig noticed movement in the background, moments before a voice rang out.
“Bah! The Federation??? They are oppressors!!! How long do you think the Federation will last once our races start leaving it? It will be a hollow shell, able to threaten only the weak….” The small, snake-like humanoid screamed from the back of the dark room.
F’gellig rose out of his chair, leaning heavily on the table in front of him. “This was supposed to be a meeting just with these two Ambassadors.”
Ignoring the new Ambassador, the Trierion sauroid said loudly, “I request permission that should any race push too far into our space, that we be able to invade their regions. Not conquer or simply invade.”
“To establish a buffer zone, essentially,” the Breen piped up, who was eyeing the approaching Tolnep with caution.
“Perhaps the Tolnep Ambassador would wait in the next room?” F’gellig spoke in a tired voice.
The Trierion shouted gruffly, “We know the Tolnep homeworld is only one warp point away from our space. Of course we don’t know where the Vahran homeworld is, but that will suffice.”
The Tolnep Ambassador, now standing in front of the Council dais, said,”
“We were once slaves of the brutal, vicious, militant Trierions! Never again!”
“We too,” spoke an alien, mechanistic voice from the back of the room. A large robed figure appeared out of the shadows, and F’gellig sighed in exasperation as the nine foot tall Quintesson Ambassador appeared. He looked like a massive machine skull with many metal tentacles that allowed him to move towards the other assembled Ambassadors.
“Please, such statements now will only inflame the situation!” the Breen Ambassador said, trying to be a voice of moderation in the midst of a growing diplomatic storm.
“But you are no longer,” F’gellig stated without much emotion.
“And have not been for some time,” the Trierion said, glaring at the two aliens.
“Are you worried that the Trierions might try to move against you again?” F’gellig inquired.
“They threaten us! They threaten all peoples….” The Tolnep started to say, but clamped his muzzle shut when the Trierion took a menacing step towards him. Only the Breen Ambassador’s unseen step on his tail halted the aggressive Trierion from tearing into the much smaller Tolnep Ambassador.
The Quintesson spoke up then, having arrived at the front of the room.
“They are committed to doing so, Oh Mighty Federation Leaders!”
“If they or anyone attacks a Federation member, they will face the entire might of the Federation!” F’gellig finally roared.
The Trierion Ambassador blinked his dead eyes at that, deciding to listen.
“They threaten us”, the Tolnep said somewhat more quietly. “We of course seek peace in all things.”
“I cannot believe those are you goals,” the Breen Ambassador said in a haughty tone. “I believe you seek to sunder the Federation, with the pretense of Trierion aggression.”
“Who are you speaking too, Breen scum-birds???” the Tolnep said nastily, turning towards the blue-haired humanoid.
F’gellig interrupted,
“The Trierion have been in the past a problem, but they are aware that aggressive actions will not be tolerated in the future.”
“Insults mean nothing to us,” the Breen said back. “I simply state the truth as I see it. If you do not mean to threaten the stability of the Federation, you will not move against the Trierion. The proof will be your actions.”
Wearily, F’gellig again stated. “The Federation Navy will not allow fighting. Period.” But he knew their was no teeth backing up his statement, but he continued. “If you can’t settle this on your own, the Federation will take steps to keep the peace. You may very well find that resolving this on your own to be a better option that the one we come up with.”
The Trierion stood up to his full height, bared his deadly teeth, and said,
“I will state this. Move against us and we will defend ourselves. Push too far and I will ask permission to move into your space.”
Unmoved, the Tolnep boldly stated,
“Our intelligence shows that the Tri-Species Combine has seceded, as has the vast Junkion Union and half a dozen other races.”
“As I said, a bad time to posture,” the Breen grumbled back. “The fate of the Federation itself may be at stake.”
“The fate of the Federation is already sealed, you lying scum,” the Tolnep shouted, spittle issuing from his fangs. “You plot against the very Federation you are trying to ‘serve’….”
The Breen Ambassador stepped closer to his Trierion ally and said,
“The Federation saved us from hive occupation. We Breen believe in the Federation. It is you whose actions are dangerous here. If you have proof of anything, show it. In my opinion, your declaration of war has shown your true colors.”
F’gellig could only watch aghast as the situation continued to decline out of control. Only the restraint of the machine-like Quintesson kept the whole thing from igniting. The long-standing grievances between these races was finally pouring over, threatening to take the entire N’Rog Federation with it.
The Tolnep screamed at the Breen,
“You lie scum-bird! We know you plot against the Federation and all sentients! You will rue the day you ever left your slimy pools to ascend into intelligence!!!!”
The Breen responded angrily at that,
“This day will go down in infamy for your actions. I deplore them.”
The Tolnep looked at the Breen for a moment, speechless, and then said,
“We are telepaths, we know you lie Breen-scum.”
“You cannot read us,” the Breen stated, not knowing what to say at such a revelation.
Finally, the machine alien spoke,
“The Quintesson Tyranny will destroy any who violate its vast borders, of this we are sure! We are a machine race and we have no fear, but we will instill fear in you if you try and mobilize against us.”
The Breen Ambassador finally turned to the N’Rog Councilmember and said,
“Is this behavior to be tolerated in this chamber?”
Turning back to the machine alien, the Breen said,
“And yet it is you who declared war on the Trierion, Quintesson.”
The mechanistic voice rang out, “They will die, as will their allies. They have terrorized the starlanes for too long! Only their Fed protectors have shielded them from the justice they deserve!”
“Are you saying you are against the Federation?” the Breen asked.
The Trierion spoke up, “Are you?”
Silence reigned briefly in the room.
“I would simply like this verified before I declare my reactions,” the Trierion stated flatly.
F’gellig was ready to put his head into his hands and ignore the now unfolding process when he again noticed someone lurking in the shadows. He briefly motioned the person forward with his hand and the other Ambassadors fell silent for a moment. It was the Arkonide Ambassador.
But before the pale-skinned humanoid could reach the front of the room where the other Ambassadors were assembled, the Quintessons’ mechanical voice, hollow and without emotion, rang out,
“We do not speak to scum.”
The Breen retaliated, “Is this the attitude of a reasonable race?”
The Trierion fired out as well, “I say this to both the Trolneps’…..sorry the TOL-neps and the Quints’. Push into Trierion space and we will seek retribution, and I personally will ask the Federation to remain out of the conflict.”
“I on the other hand,” the Breen quickly interjected, “will request the help of the Federation if you harm a single one of its’ citizens.”
“No, we will ask the Federation to intervene if you violate our borders, bio-scum,” the Quintesson Ambassador replied hastily.
“Then I suggest you stay out of ours,” the Trierion retaliated heatedly.
“We have developed biological weapons to wipe out all sentient species and we will use them if you do not maintain your distance from our space,” the Quintesson said, dropping his bombshell.
No one said anything for a moment as their language translators translated the horrific news to the other Ambassadors in the room.
“You will do what?!” the Breen asked angrily. “I call on the Federation representative to answer that challenge.” He looked to the N’Rog on the dais, who apparently was turning quite blue in his anger. But he said nothing.
“Your homeworld is a short distance from my own, in fact two jumps. Should you venture into our space you will be recycled,” the Trierion said in a grandstanding manner.
“For that threat Quints, there will be justice,” the Breen threatened but the mechanical alien appeared unmoved.
“Tolnep Ambassador, see what the Quintessons would do? They are the danger, not the Trierion,” the Breen stated boldly.
“You threaten many and bully many species Breen-scum, you will doubtless fall before one of your many enemies, if not us then someone else will finish you!” the Quintesson pronounced boldly. “We will weaken you enough until the Federation will sense its’ opportunity and crush you and your allies. Think about it scum!”
F’gellig finally folded his arms across his massive chest and just listened to the foolish ranting and posturing of the Ambassadors before him. Clearly he would get no productive work done until tempers had flared down.
The Breen spoke up, “We do not bully. Races come to us for technological trade. We are a friend to any race who wishes it so. And the Federation will stand by the races who support it, as do we.”
“The Breen are truly a most accommodating species,” the Arkonide Ambassador piped up.
“We do not believe you! If they were, how could they be allied to the universes’ most evil race, the Trierions?!” the Tolnep shouted loudly.
“Who says we are the most evil?!” the Trierion said angrily, clacking its massive jaws full of teeth open and closed rapidly. “We only eat those we attack.”
“That is evil!” screamed the Tolnep Ambassador.
“The Breen truly are accommodating but we know little about their Trierion allies,” the Arkonide said.
The Breen then launched a more personal attack against the Tolnep, “We know of your practices Tolnep and find many…disconcerting. But we do not make judgments.”
The Trierion also said, “That is the same with myself. I know of your customs. You make threats that are like knives and then cower behind other races.”
“You know nothing about us, you vile scum,” the Tolnep retaliated. “We know this to be true since we know little of you!”
“We like it when races know little about us, shows me my intelligence forces are doing their jobs and eating your spies,” the Trierion laughed, menacingly
“Some of us are not insular. Some of us learn about other races,” the Breen spoke up, trying to break the cycle of threats and counter-threats.
“You are an evil alliance! This so-called ‘Free Alliance’ isn’t free at all, we know this to be true. We know you horde technology!” the Tolnep screamed back at the Breen.
“Horde? We will trade with all peaceful races,” the Breen countered calmly.
“They why don’t you trade with the N’Rog Federation, eh? We have heard of your extensive back-room deals, bio-scum,” the Quint accused.
A chime rang out in the room, diverting the Ambassadors’ heated attention to a large screen overhead. F’gellig looked briefly at a pad and said, “The Junkion Ambassador is on ICN, and he wishes access to this room. What should I tell him? he asked.
“All should be heard,” the Breen Ambassador spoke up.
“Did he ask nice,” the Arkonide inquired.
“Yes he did,” F’gellig answered, frowning at the stupid question of the Arkonide.
“Then I suppose we must hear him,” the Arkonide replied.
The large screen blinked to life, briefly showered with multi-colored bits until it focused and another obviously mechanical alien appeared on it. This one was tall, with flowing armor and metal skin. Clearly it was the Junkion Ambassador.
“We of the Junkion Union thank you for letting us be able to address you worthy sentients!” the Junkions’ mechanical voice rang out. “We have heard disturbing rumors of war and conflict swirling about the ‘Free Alliance’, in fact one of our constituents, the Vahran, are embroiled in some sort of disagreement with the Trierions. Who might the Trierions be?”
The large tyrannoid stepped boldly forward, “We are!”
Now the Breen Ambassador, who had used the technological advances of his race to build a semi-secret alliance between the Arkonides, the Trierions, and the Breen, was watching the whole scene with growing dismay. The Trierions rapidly turning from formidable allies to a literal millstone-about-the-neck for the Breen. He had to get control of the situation before every race in the entire Federation declared war on their newly-founded alliance, so the Breen interjected quickly,
“This seems to be a matter of cultural differences….hardly a matter for war. Unlike leaving the Federation.”
“We of the Union, the vast and incredibly wealthy superpower now forming in Marra’bat Sector, discourages anyone from attacking our nearby friends and allies. Oh worthy sentients, conflict should be avoided,” the Junkion Ambassador said, “for surely we would overwhelm anyone who would challenge our friends and allies to battle.”
The Breen retaliated quickly,
“We of the Alliance, the technologically advanced races, will defend ourselves if attacked.”
The Arkonide leaned over to the Breen and muttered angrily, “The velvet glove sure didn’t last long.”
“Strife is upsetting,” the Breen went on.
“Your friends the Vahran started it,” the Trierion said, and the Breen Ambassador glared at him, although he took no notice.
“Oh worthy sentients, we regard an attack on one as an attack on all, so beware my friends, lest the mighty wrath of the Union come upon you!” the Junkion said.
The Breen just growled at the statement.
The Junkion continued, unaffected,
“The Union wants peaceful coexistence with all worthy species. Trade is welcome, political union with us is encouraged since the dissolution of the once great N’Rog Federation is becoming more and more obvious. We of the Union have already declared a formal independence from the Federation just this morning….”
The Trierion stomped a mighty clawed foot down, rattling the floor and the Ambassadors’ that stood upon it,
“Maybe you need your audio circuits checked,” he said. “THE VAHRAN STARTED IT! Was that loud enough so your audio circuits could register it?”
The Breen spoke up, “The step of declaring independence is a grave one indeed, and not one of peace. We shall consult with the N’Rog on that. But let me say, that harm comes to those who harm others.”
The Junkion on the screen appeared to look at the Trierion for a moment, and then said,
“You are insulting as you are physically challenging looking most unworthy Trierions. We have heard of you and your despicable practices. How any species could ally themselves with a race of cannibalistic rapists is beyond intelligent comprehension.”
“Not so….how anyone could leave the Federation is,” the Breen countered. “You would divide us—what if the threat like the Dionii Hive comes again?”
Another figure moved in the shadows, alerting F’gelligs’ attention yet again. He motioned the Ambassador forward, it was the Mandru, the most ancient race living.
“Hello, the Mandru Collective has arrived, although we are working and will not be paying much attention.”
The Junkion Ambassador via ICN continued, “We know one thing most unworthy Trierions; only your location has endeared your allies to you, and once they are through with using your aggressiveness, they will surely fall on upon you like Junkion jackals. A fate most worthy of your despicable deeds.”
The Breen interjected,
“We stand by those who are true!”
The Junkion addressed the newcomer who was also a mechanistic race, “Welcome oh most worthy Mandru, for we have heard of you.”
F’gellig leaned forward in his seat, after listening to the Ambassadors for awhile.
“The Dionii are no more,” the Junkion stated flatly. “and even if some survived, we alone would be able to handle them. We and our allies, the Vahran, the navigators, Tolats, Amalfi, and others, could easily subdue them with our stealth technology and missile pods.”
F’gellig finally spoke gravely, “Gentlebeings, should any of you send armed ships into a Federation members’ sphere without their prior permission, you will face severe repercussions.”
“Greetings, exalted Ambassador of the Junkions. We hope what you have heard of the Mandru is not ill."
"Most worthy N'Rog…we are listening, but remind you of our current decision to leave the Federation. Again we have no strong dispute with you," the Junkion replied before addressing the Mandru Ambassador.
"The Federation will station bases at the joining warp points between the parties in conflict," F'gellig decided, knowing that few Fleet ships were available for policing.
The Junkion addressed the Mandru, saying, "Dear Mandru friend, we too are a machine race and have heard nothing but good things about you, unlike these Trierion dogs….whew what a stench to our mechanistic nostrils."
"Is such a decision, to leave the Federation, to be tolerated?" the Breen inquired, somewhat aloof. "To divide our strength?"
The Arkonide Ambassador spoke to F'gellig, "In Federation territory I presume?"
"No strong disputes," the Junkion added.
F'gellig paused for a moment, watching as one Ambassador after another seemingly ignore each other. He slowly shook his head in dispair, and then said, "It is all Federation territory, and it is all governed by Federation laws. Races have sovereignty to conduct their affairs as they see fit."
"You have previously claimed that you would put bases in our territory only with our permission," the Arkonide countered.
F'gellig leaned forward in his chair, towering over the Ambasadors below. "The Federation has the right under charter to protect trade lanes and Federation members from attack."
The Breen shook a fist at F'gellig, saying, "Then do so! These who have left the Federation threaten us!"
F'gellig went on mercilessly, "The parties in dispute have been given the option of resolving this on their own."
The Junkion on the screen broke in, "We concisely disagree most worthy N'Rog representative. Your overlong taxation alone caused ruinous damage to many races' economies, including our own. Our decision to separate and form our own Union was not made in haste, but it is necessary."
The Breen piped up, "They say they have left the Federation….surely you will not let that pass?"
The N'Rog thought for a moment, knowing that any stance he took had no teeth. He spoke then, trying to address the real problems, "Should they not come to a resolution, then a multi-racial force will act as a buffer at those specific points/systems at risk. Your decision to stay or leave is irrelevant to the matter at hand, Junkion. Use of military forces or entering a Federation members' sphere without permission with military forces is not allowed."
"We of the Union have no strong disputes with anyone, however we will restate: an attack on one is an attack on all, and the mighty power of the Union is not to be thought of lightly…."
The Trierion growled, "The Vahran declared war first. Should any Vahran vessel cross into our space they will be dealt with."
"We agree with the Trierion," F'gellig said, although he could hardly believe that he did. "To get to a Federation member is one of the buffer zones will require firing on Federation forces. You may talk. You may argue. You may slander one another," F'gellig railed, standing now, "You may not send forces into a sovereign Federation members sphere of influence."
"Well, being as the Junkion Ambassador so blatantly stated that he and his allies are no longer in the Federation, that issue is moot," the Trierion grumbled.
"No one has left the Federation," F'gellig stated, hoping to forstall any information about that!
"But he just stated…" the Trierion started to say.
The Mandru interrupted, "The Mandru Collective sees no reason to join this conflict, and is disturbed at the apparent unraveling of the Federation it helped to start so many centuries ago. While we do not condone the excessive taxes imposed by the N'Rog, we believe the Federation has served its' purpose over time."
"We have stated our intentions plainly, oh most worthy species," the Junkion said. "Being honest to our intents and beliefs, unlike others in this room who are not going to tell their true feelings."
"There is truth in what the Junkion ambassador has said," F'gellig said, glaring at the aliens in front of him.
"Some have not been honest here." He glanced around the room, eyes slitted. "The Trierion may be sincere in their desire for peace, but they have much to overcome from the past, and their own expansionist history."
The Mandru representative nodded its' light receptor unit at the N'Rog in agreement.
F'gellig went on,
"These other Ambassadors, from their ancient dealings with the Trierions, have every reason to distrust and disbelieve the Trierions," F'gellig stated ruthlessly.
"They are evil!" screamed the Quintesson Ambassador.
"But….they have been assured that the Trierion will behave as a good Federation member," F'gellig finished, frowning at the Quint for speaking out of turn. "If they do not, they will not find the Federation as tolerant as in the past."
The Junkion interrupted, "We hope you keep your unruly elements under control oh most worthy N'Rog, for we too have unruly elements, and will strive to keep the feral races from each others throats as they progress to maturity."
"Agreed, Junkion," F'gellig said, nodding his fat head.
"We of the Quintesson Tyranny wish an immediate lowering of the tax rate from its' current 40% of GDP to something more reasonable, say 10%!"
"We the Mandru agree with the Junkions on this point. We older races have a responsibility to teach and encourage the youngling races into proper civilization and maturity."
F'gellig addressed the Quintesson, "That is a discussion for another time, Ambassador. Right now the discussion is about the prevention of war."
The Trierion piped up, "What sort of name is "Tyranny" for a supposed peaceful nation?" He waited a moment, and then said, "Oh wait, you declared war on us! That answers that," he said smugly.
"You are tyrants, Trierion! You have always been tyrants, and you will always be tyrants!" the Quintesson screamed at the Trierion, although maintaining a discreet distance from the powerfully-built rex.
The Breen interjected, "On the other hand, you did declare war and your name does contain the part "tyranny". So the accusations sound…hollow."
The Mandru representative watched the unfolding events with glowing eyes.
"Gentlebeings, please! There are enough accusations and rumors as it is," F'gellig said, trying to impart a peaceful tone in the room.
"As evolution bypasses your races, you will vanish into the dust and the powerful Tyranny will continue on down the road of interstellar existence, fair well bio-scum," the Quintesson announced and walked out of the room.
"Everything will be discovered and the truth will reign in the end," the N'Rog stated boldly. "why, even threats against the Capital have been rumored." When he said this, he closely watched the reactions of the "Free Alliance" members, looking for some slight confirmation upon what he had recently heard.
The Breen shouted at the retreating back of the Quintesson Ambassador,
"You metalhead! Our race has been around since the dawn of time! And I have ruled it myself for several generations! We will continue to be around for many generations to come!" He shook his small fist at the retreating figure, who apparently was ignoring the tirade.
The Quintesson did turn for a moment, stating plainly, "We, the Quintessons, will defend the Capital."
"Before or after you take it over?" the Trierion queried.
The Mandru stepped forward, and said, "We Mandru joined with the N'Rog and other elder races when we fought the Hive, and saved our galaxy from a fate being discussed casually in this room. Does that make us enlightened?"
F'gellig yelled to the Quintesson who was nearly out of the room, "Thank you for your generous offer, Quintesson!"
"Not along the approaches through my space—I assure the N'Rog that our defenses are adequate," the Breen spoke hastily.
Again, F'gelligs' gaze swept the assembled Ambassadors, and he said, "We have detained a highly placed individual who is being questioned even now. I expect these rumors will be confirmed or dispelled….very soon."
"And yes, the Hive," the Breen went on, trying to ignore F'gelligs' statement, "is a threat that could rise again…if we are divided, what hope is there for us?"
After his tirade, the Breen turned back to F'gellig and asked casually, "An individual of what race?"
"That would be premature to release such information," F'gellig said, "especially if it were groundless."
"I see," replied the Breen, trying to sound disinterested.
"Federation security believes that they will have all the answers and all the leads followed up within a month," F'gellig said smugly.
"Well I for one, will increase the fortifications along the route to the N'Rog Capital in any case," the Breen said.
"It there is any truth to the "nuking of the Capital" operation, then they will be dealt with," F'gellig stated in his most menacing voice. “We appreciate the support of Federation members, however the information has not been verified as of yet and like much of the talk so far, may prove to be just smoke and misdirection."
F'gellig waved his hand and pushed back away from the high table, indicating that the discussion was over. The Ambassadors, grumbling, all shuffled out of the room.
Perhaps there was hope for the Federation after all, F'gellig thought as he watched the aliens leave the room.