Rage flooded through the body of Don Chenzo as he'd passed through Malta's atmosphere, making his way to where the 101st headquarters once was. The same place a meeting had been held but a few months prior in an attempt to discuss the future of strengthening Malta's defences and expand Cardamine trade. He'd served Malta without fault for his entire adult life, defended it's people and always done what he believed to be the right thing.
There was a heavy sense of injustice and sheer anger toward the same high ranking officer within the HS> that had tried to belittle him in the previous meeting held. He'd openly threatened and goaded others to attack him for reasons unknown. Vin Chenzo was firmly of the belief that the level of basic education had fallen severely in the last decade since the 101st's rule. Many things had changed which was to be expected, but you can't re-write history because you feel like it. Origins & history cannot not be changed. History will always remain as such
Fuelled with the aforementioned rage, the man found himself sending an urgent comm request to the leader of the Hyperspace Fleet. He knew that their ideals did not see eye to eye for the subject matter to be discussed, but he'd always known him to be a fair man. Chenzo did not expect a warm or easy encounter, but he did know Harabero was exactly the right man to call.
}--Prologue--{
Another average day, looking over new ship designs he'd hoped would give the Maltese an extra edge in shock attack combat, the Maltese distress system sounded reporting long range scanners had picked up signs of an imminent attack on Maltese soil. As he'd done so for what must have been the millionth time, he launches his Sabre into space in full knowledge that this could be his last time to do so breathing. This was the reality for every Maltese pilot to the call of war. What foes could he be joining his brothers and sisters in arms against? The actively warring Corsairs? A group of Bounty Hunters? Another stab invasion of Crayter? Almost anything could be possible with so many foes known to the Maltese Nation.
Usually low ranking scouts were the first to scene, but in this case the presence he knew all too well drew his path. There was never a directly pleasant encounter with the Nomads, but he could feel there was no anger before the electronic equipment on his ship had picked up what could only be described as a small fleet of randomly assembled Nomads and their kin. Never before had he seen such a force assembled so randomly. Pleasantries were exchanged before the Nomads had made their way closer to Malta. Inquisitive by nature, the creatures had moved as a group. Not a single shot fired toward his ship. There was no immanent sense of danger.
As the wonky nomad fleet approached Malta, the group of Outcasts who'd assembled paused for a moment to listen, to see what the threat was. Chenzo who was physically closer to the Nomads than the Maltese having tracked them down first began to speak, advising of no ill intensions nor harm. Years of misinformation had fuelled a fear of Nomads. The Don's plea was that under no circumstances fire.
STARFLEET HEADQUARTERS, PLANET MALTA, OMICRON ALPHA SYSTEM
Don Harabero gazed listlessly through a window onto the orange plain beneath. He had taken a break from the usual drudgery of organizational duties. Wine glass in hand, merely content to enjoy the slowly setting sun as he slowly sipped from exchanged - or stolen, he was never quite sure - Gallic wine. Things had calmed down recently, and it would be a slow ride to rebuild the Cardamine trade and capitalize on their recent successful campaigns. Now it would be a suitable time to slow down, sit back, and ponder.
At least, that was the plan. Until he received a call. Unenthusiastically, the Don slowly reached for the communicator and turned it on, allowing the contents of the audio to fill the room.
Relaxation turned to urgency. Frantically, Alejandro began releasing alerts and coordinating rapid response teams. This was a situation which must take highest priority. Malta was in danger. Nomads had been spotted entering the Omicron Alpha system.
While it was not unheard of, it was certainly uncommon, an imaginary border often respected by each party. Retaliation had been dealt to Nomad warforms which had attempted to invade the homeland in the past, yet it always set the Don on edge. Starcraft beamed through the atmosphere, ready to defend against the threat.
- APPROXIMATELY 24 HOURS LATER -
Now, the impromptu engagement had led to a political predicament. Don Harabero was not at all pleased to receive reports of attempts to confuse and sabotage the efforts of the defense of Malta. Any actions - for any reason - that might threaten to compromise the security of their one bastion of life is tantamount to treason, in the mind of the Don. It had been noted previously of the deep veneration held by Chenzo of the Spirits, yet Harabero did not believe that he would think of placing them, as he figured, over the progress and defense of Malta.
A hard conversation and a deep implication was to be set, equivalently practical to either side: Just how far is too far?
A transmission requesting Harabero's presence had been sent in a fluster of rage at the situation which had taken place in Malta's orbit. Chenzo found himself pacing the meeting room, the sights across the robotically farmed fields for as far as the eye could see to the horizon had an effect most calming. He did not know exactly how long he'd been waiting within the meeting room since the response was received saying Harabero would join him, just that it felt like eternity. He knew the Hyperspace Fleet didn't exactly have many positive encounters with the Nomads.
He'd finally returned to his calm persona by the time Harabero walked though the doors to the meeting room to see Chenzo sat in the same seat in which the last meeting had taken place.
Harabero entered the meeting room. A wooden circular table had been set in the carpeted chamber, with floor to ceiling windows allowing light fill the area. It was expansive, with space to accommodate several people, but as of right now it was reserved for them alone.
Good day, my friend.
The Don's demeanor was slightly distant and professional. He was not entirely angry about the situation, yet he also believed it to be of high importance. If he were to be honest, Harabero was not sure himself of the approach he would take. He was, however, more comfortable in the moment, having known Chenzo for as long as he had. He waved his hand.
I believe we both know the subject of our impromptu meetup. We can skip the formalities for the moment. What I really want to know is, why entrust them so, as you did, without any caution? This is our only home, we are speaking of. It has been shown they are unreliable at best, malicious at worst. Why would you attempt to - and attempt to persuade others to - entrust in them so much?
Chenzo nods, waves and mirrors the brief exchange of formalities
He was taken by surprise by Harabero's tone. Not once had he seen the man lose his temper, nor had he ever heard any rumours of him losing it. Chenzo respected this more than words could describe. But a few hours ago one of Harabero's men had tried to insinuate his murder. Quite the contrast in persona.
"One of the reasons I respect you senor, your ability to get straight to the point.
As you know, I have lead countless raids on enemy territory as well as defended Malta form attack more times than some have had hot dinners. Most recently, from rumours off a Freeport I tracked the corsair's cruiser Penitence from Rheinland rallying their forces to attack and slow down their movement, which enabled us to hit the cruiser extremely hard in the Sigma's ultimately retiring the ship from service. If it's one thing I have senor, it's experience in reading & leading the battlefield.
I will not pretend to be some lord and master of knowledge regarding the Nomads, no form of spirit whisperer, however experience alone tells me that was no invasion force. Contrary to what you may wish to believe or interpret, they are not stupid. They are not mindless drones and on more occasions in my life they have saved Maltese lives from certain death against our enemy's, such as the Corsairs and the Order.
That small force senor, was in my opinion a test. A test to see exactly how the Maltese would react. Would we openly communicate under the fair assessment that they could do no real damage to the planet or would we mindlessly shoot potentially causing loss of life to our own."
He pauses, trying to find the right words
"I can appreciate times have changed, senor. It's why very few like myself left from the age before yours hold oh so tightly to the basic rules of respect and conduct. There are many, many guns pointed toward any and every Maltese movement, these creatures live on our doorstep and they really wish for no battle with us. They have an intricate network of memories which means any and every single one of them shares the sights and actions of everything which has ever happened for the millennia's each of them have lived. If you were to place Maltese existence in their time frame and compress it into a lunar year; ours is but a millisecond before new years eve. Does that put it into perspective at all?"
Almost showing emoticon, something he'd rarely show, he continues
"Once upon a time our ancestors arrived on this planet which was entirely their back yard, just like the rest of Sirius. They allowed our ancestors to be here without challenge. The Maltese are truly different than the rest of Sirius, senor. Our genetics from the gift of the Orange Dream separate us further from the rest of Sirius. It's why they have no desire to actually attack, no ability to mess with our minds. We are not the same as the rest of Sirius, so we are not the same instant kill target to them.
I believe there is a communication and interpretation barrier which went wrong soon after the 101st's disbandment, a decade ago.
I'm not asking you to worship them, *he sniggers at the stupidity of the notion to worship the Nomads* but shooting them on sight is also by far an overstep in my opinion. We may indeed one day surpass them, inherit their lands just as we have done so with Malta and Omicron Alpha, Beta. I'd like this conversation to be the start of something positive. I'd also prefer to not have your lieutenant try and shoot me, refrain from encouraging others to do so also
After the Don finished talking he ambled toward the table and sat across from Chenzo. When conversation began he was not entirely hopeful that much would become changed in the eyes of either one of them. Their viewpoints, stirred from decades of radically differing experiences, had cemented deeply in their hearts. Chenzo saw the Nomads as wise, powerful beings that, given no hostilites by the Maltese, would be passive toward them. However, Harabero saw the Nomads as wise and powerful yes, yet he did not think them benevolent or passive, but as threats to the safety of the Maltese people. A set of the two same facts would yield opposing results by either of them, yet who could say which was really closer to the truth of the matter?
I do not believe them stupid. However, I do not agree that they are as safe or able to be trusted as you would say they are. We both know that they are powerful, yet will they keep this power forever away from us, even were we to try and "make peace" with them? We are different from the others, we are not an instant kill target, but what were to happen should they decide that, for whatever infathomable reason they may decide, that we are not worth keeping around any longer? They interfered into our sovereign space with warships and sat outside our one bastion of life, with full knowledge of our icy relations. That is not a feasible time or place to attempt to make peace. Was this a test of our respect to them, or a test of our ability to resist?
I was alive. I remember back 40 years ago when the spirits were but tales. Mere folklore and myth that no one had seen personally. They left us alone - they left all Sirius alone - for whatever reason. But that too changed. They decided that humanity had grown too great a threat and that they must be extinguished.
If they decide to change, just like they did all those years ago, and just like they did a few years ago, and just like they did yesterday when they crossed our boundary, would our lip service to them be enough? When they intrude inside our homeland with warforms, how far do we bend backwards before we have to defend ourselves, or break our backs believing they won't harm us?
Alejandro had become exasperated as he became more passionate. He attempted to tone himself back before he broke his character. He decided to take a different approach.
Those... spirits. There may be a communication barrier that was lost somewhere. And it will continue to be. We are not the same as them. Should we intend to mend relations, will conflict prove to be behind us as you believe it will, or will relations forever remain strained, uneasy, and restless as history has proven it has been? We have grown beyond children to them. Now we are as much of a threat as the Core or the Corsairs are, like it or not. If we choose to try and live peacefully with them, would they leave us alone forever? Or would they keep us contained and restricted so that we may never oppose them in the future? After all, only one of us may dominate Sirius. Or would they intend to display their passivity to us, all the while preparing a strike as on Toledo or Issoudon? The issue is that while we may pretend to be companions for a time, we both know that eventually we will clash. And as we know that it will happen, what worth is it to delude ourselves into holding a veil over our eyes and believing there is no threat in the moment, while we sleep with a battleship hovering over our city?
"Senor, you are both wise and have my respect, so please take what I say without offence.
It's because of the inability to communicate effectively that lives are lost every day. Not just within Maltese space, but across Sirius. Inflated ego's of ability, strength and people who act against others out of hate they can prove no reason for other than to satisfy the band wagon on which they have jumped."
Can you honestly see no reason for why the Nomads may wish to shoot the Hyperspace Starfleet and others like them, yet yield zero hostility toward myself and those whom hold tight to the old rules of our people?
Do you, yourself forget the times of the 101st??"
He lights a cigarette, looking distastefully at it as he lit it. He'd been meaning to quit this habit for a while now.
"Of course I mean no insult, far from it. But at some point after the 101st was over and people neglected to communicate or understand the reason behind certain laws we had in place.
Artifacts, the Corsair's trade since... forever. The thing which we all believe to have ignited the Nomads hostilities from the very beginning. The commodity your group has meddled with for a long time now. Xeno Relics. Something, if you remember I strongly advised that you put a stop to upon my return, senor.
Trading in them is essentially grave robbing, it's why a large percentage of Nomad attacks are on the Corsairs. There are, of course other reasons. This however, is a primary one. Mistakes can be made, respect can be lost faster than it's earned, senor. You might find it amusing that I'd bring this up, however, how would you feel if anyone were to disrupt the graves of your forefather's? A question we need not answer, senor."
He takes a sip from a strange vial from within his jacket, pauses then continues
"We made those laws of not messing about with Xeno Relics, artifacts of any kind, really. Targeting those who carry them as a double win given it lessens our enemy's resources whilst appeasing the most basic desire's of the Nomads. After all, credits is something we all have many. The Maltese people broke one of the simplest treaties of Maltese society without even knowing it, all down to a lack of communication and respect for their Maltese elders
You speak of them not sharing their power? Senor, they have weaponry they cannot hope to pass to us unless our ships themselves become alive with their technology, which of course isn't really an option. They literally are their weapons."
He stubs the cigarette out before looking Haraberro in the eye
"Senor, I'm an Outcast among Outcasts sometimes for holding on to the very fabric which made this nation. I would very, very much like to set up a meeting with yourself, them. I can promise you my own neck that as long as nobody attacks from our side, there shall be no hostility.
He drops his gaze part way though talking to prevent awkwardness
"I don't expect you'll take the offer, senor. but I can promise you that it would explain so many things and address any issues or concerns. Communicate, it would work things out even if the end result is you still wish to shoot them. Even bring that colleague of yours, the one who tried to get me killed. Even that insolent brat would be convinced as long as he doesn't deliberately spark a fight".
I do see that there is reason that their kind holds hostility toward us, I don't deny it. Good reason, as a matter of fact. Were I one of them, I would hold hostility toward our nation myself. Yet that is exactly the reason I maintain my stance; if our progression is to bring about strife and war between our two species, how can we have any hope of long term co-existence?
Any peace we make with them is a means to an end - a peaceful truce concluding in a duel of fire and brimstone over the dominion of Sirius. I do not find any of your reasoning wrong, Senor Chenzo, I just believe that it misses the point.
Harabero laid back in his leather (or who's material could be described most similarly to leather) chair. He rested, placing his fingers in a triangle position with a sigh, and turned his focus toward the window while he spoke.
What is the point? Of any of it? We both know how it will end, should we not prepare ourselves the best that we can for that inevitable reckoning, rather than making an act for the present time? The only benefit I see to creating a peace is that it may - or may not - turn their gaze elsewhere for the current moment. And what for it? Do not think that we seek after Xeno Relics for the sake of recklessness or credits alone, they provides massive advances in science and technology, to achieve our end goals. Their respect is worth nothing if we paralyze progress to gain it for a moment, and then lose it the next. Why would we hold a short, shaky truce with a looming adversary, all for the sake of respect?
The Don straightened back up and centered his attention back on Chenzo.
Chenzo listened to the points his friend was making. They were indeed just. He thought for a short while before speaking
"Have you ever studied them, senor? Seen their life cycle? It's most fascinating. Their organic matter made up of... pure energy. They start off smaller then the microscopic organisms we find in Beta and other places across Sirius, all the way to their formidable final form which dwarf even our Ranseur's. All the while, they have the ability to change almost any form of raw energy into.... anything they want. It's quite remarkable. Almost like alchemists..."
}-His PDA begins to buzz, a transmission coming in from De Marco-[
He both liked and loathed this woman. In the Don's opinion, she was one of the people in Maltese society who had very little clue for actual ancestry, even lesser care for respect of how the Maltese began. He also believed she had even lesser respect again for who the Maltese allies were, even trying to have them gunned down at various stages all whilst supporting Maltese enemies. He raises the PDA to respond
"Senorita,
Whilst I most certainly get ripped apart at the very thought of anyone Maltese coming in harms way, it tears me more to see albeit independent Maltese fighters engage the spirits when they had not one braincell to share between them.
Anyone who refuses to respect our past and cause a fight where there simply not need one potentially brings death to our people.
Si, we literally used to execute those who were that stupid. Not something I approve of, but it was the done thing.
I'm sat with Harabero talking about this very subject right now, come join us. The same meeting room as a few months ago.
Chenzo out."
He ends the transmission almost dropping the PDA before turning back to Haraberro
"I assume you won't mind De Marco joining us. I really would like to get to the root cause of her obsession with shitting on our allies whilst befriending our enemy's who don't take cardamine. Alas, that is not today's discussion"
His note was aggressive, but if things were to stand any chance at change for the better, this was potentially the meeting to help start sowing the seeds
Upon De Marco's entry, Chenzo tosses her the room's note taking device so she could catch up on all conversation held so far
It had not been long since the Nomad skirmish in orbit around planet Malta, so the Amalfi remained stationed overhead. Her crew worked tirelessly to repair the ship after that battle - engine number 4 continued to fluctuate, unable to maintain power following a direct hit from one of the Nomad war forms.
Her chosen transport for the journey was a Dagger-class fighter stowed within the hangar of her personal yacht.
***
Fiorella de Marco stepped into the hall clad in her customary business attire - a black and gold women's pantsuit. Although the tablet thrown in her direction took her by surprise, she had little difficulty catching it in time.
“Buongiorno, Signor Chenzo, Don Harabero. Were it not for the respect I hold for Don Harabero’s time, I would have tossed this device right back at you, Signor Chenzo.”
She spoke slowly, as usual, enunciating each syllable with care. However, compared to her usual reserved tone, she said more loudly, betraying her dismay at the situation - or perhaps at Chenzo's recent gesture. In the meantime, she perused the automatically recorded notes of the meeting on the device in her hands.
Then, she raised her gaze to Don Harabero and Chenzo and started her opening speech.
“Gentlemen, if I may, I would like to offer my assessment of this situation from my perspective. We have indeed coexisted with the Nomads in this system for centuries. They were aware of their domain - their worlds - and we knew ours - Omicron Alpha and Omicron Beta. La Zona Sagrada was that delicate intersection where our worlds overlapped, yet neither side ventured beyond its allotted, almost sacred boundary.”
“What changed, then? The Nomads attempted to eradicate humanity during the Colony Wars at the turn of the century. They revealed themselves as not being the benevolent spiritual guides they once seemed. The Nomads also demonstrated precisely how they intended to defeat humanity - by weakening and infiltrating its power structures, dismantling society from within, and preparing it for domination. Does that sound familiar?”
“Even among the Outcasts, such alien Infiltrators have been discovered over the past two decades. They may have reached our Dons’ ranks if the rumors hold any truth. For instance, factions committed to eliminating the Nomad threat frequently cite Donna Enma Loyola as one of the most famous Outcast infiltrators. Whether or not that is specifically true in her case, there is no doubt these entities endeavor to insinuate themselves into our society, guiding it to suit their own ends. They wear the faces of our brothers and sisters but no longer bear allegiance to Malta, only to their masters. Their feigned loyalty to Malta is pure and masterfully crafted deception.”
“Such infected individuals do not symbolize an act of friendship or respect, but of war. We shall have no mercy on anyone who kills our brothers and sisters. Should we tolerate someone who not only does that but also robs them of their minds, bodies, and faces for the sake of manipulating our society? I think not.”
“No, it was not us who trespassed against those sacred boundaries that stood for centuries - the Nomads themselves have shattered them, employing the same pattern with which they attempt to destroy other human societies. There is no reason to accommodate them or excuse their conduct because, in reality, they have gone significantly further than the Bounty Hunters or Cryer Pharmaceuticals ever have. The Nomads have declared a covert war upon our kind, Signor Chenzo, whether you choose to believe it or not.”
“There is only one objectively correct way to restore our relations to their previous state: The Nomads must cease all aggressive actions against humanity, reveal and withdraw every Infiltrator they have placed among us, and pledge never to create them anymore. Anything else would merely be a foolish concession on our part, which would inevitably be perceived as weakness and permission to escalate matters further in their favor.”
After finishing her speech, she settled into her seat, leaning back comfortably, giving a chance to speak to her colleagues again.
![[Image: NpzlId6.jpeg]](https://i.imgur.com/NpzlId6.jpeg)
