In the end, you chose to pursue the course of action that had stood you in good stead with the Contact Fleet so far. You'd have to sprinkle in some results of Insight's Thoughtcasts, enough to prove what you were saying was true, but there was no purpose to simply throwing out facts. Given some of what you knew now, it would be cruel to do so, regardless of how quickly it would prove that Insight's capabilities were genuine. You'd come a long way with the Contact Fleet's representatives, and the Diplomacy Corps had come further, but without proving that Insight was real, none of that would matter. You needed to prove to them that your reasons for not fearing the Shiplords weren't fever dreams.
But now was the time for confidence despite your fears, and you knew how to give that. You held yourself firmly as you walked, deliberately, to the conference room that had been set aside for this discussion, meeting Phoebe and Neil, the same diplomat who'd helped you convince the Contact Fleet's representatives to agree to the 'scan' that had freed several of their aides. He'd probably had more interaction with them than anyone, including you, but it was a different type of interaction. They'd trust him as a diplomat, and that would matter. But there was a difference between that and the trust you knew at least some of them held for you. More, you'd been President when Insight found this information, proving a truth that was widely held but considered unverified most of humanity. Phoebe could help you with that, as the one who'd discovered it there was none more qualified, but it would fall to you to weave all together into something that could be believed.
You'd spent hours of subjective time poring over what Phoebe had brought you, the results of at least two Thoughtcasts: the first on the Contact Fleet itself and the other on those behind it. Time well spent, you hoped. You were about to find out.
"We told them you were coming to help explain," Neil said, as the three of you turned down the last stretch of hallway. "A few were happy to hear it, some were more indifferent. We did tell them why, of course, but though they've been briefed on the UPI report in general terms, well," he shrugged, "we haven't actually given them copies of it yet. We were holding back until we could prove it was right. No matter how convincing it looks, without the background making sense, it seemed prudent to hold off."
"Sensible enough." Phoebe nodded, adjusting her glasses with one hand. She was dressed formally, in clothing reminiscent of the light dress that was used by Project Insight during a Thoughtcast. It was a little odd, but you couldn't exactly judge; your Aegis was quite a bit more than a little odd. Still, that wasn't what you'd thought.
"The reports implied that they'd been briefed," you pointed out, to which Neil nodded.
"They have been, at least in technical terms. They are aware there is a reason, they do not know exactly what it is, and are rather more interested in why we trust the reason before wanting to see it. The intent was to have briefed them properly, but," he shrugged, not out of lack of care, but more simple helplessness in the face of what must have been a united opinion.
"Well, that would explain why you're carrying those." The folders under Neil's arm weren't large, but there were a good number of them and hardcopy wasn't exactly something anyone was used to carrying around anymore.
"The Ministry of Security ended up building seven entirely new typesets for the typewriter so that we could hand out translated copies," Phoebe said, catching one of the folders as it slipped free from Neil's hold. "We don't want them to have to use their implants to translate, that would put the text in their storage." You'd wondered why there'd been typesets already available when you'd asked for your own dossiers to be printed.
You nodded before stopping at the door to the room. "Anything else I need to know?" They both shook their heads. "Let's get this done, then."
Judging the Balance: 65 + 33 (Diplomacy) + 10 (Personal Knowledge) + 15 (Diplomacy Corps) = 123 Second Rank Success.
"You are aware of how fantastical this seems, Envoy Hawk," the Sarthee Representative pointed out several hours later, the leathery skin around their elongated snout rippling furiously. "Even with, well," it gestured at some of the pages strewn across the table, parts of the dossiers you'd handed to each delegate on the powers behind them, and other things, some more personal. Each to each and carefully so, as it wasn't yours to tell to the rest. But the picture it painted was stark, perhaps made worse by the combination of power and clear restraint; there were enough hints among the pages to make it clear you knew more, but were holding back.
"I am," you hadn't liked doing this, even with it being more measured. Somewhere along the line, something would be too much, and despite your best efforts a line or two had surely been so. It hadn't been obvious, and you doubted either of your companions had noticed, but for a Mender as close to their Focus as you, the cracks forming in resolve already long tested had been obvious.
"This is why you aren't afraid, the truth, I mean." Kendl had been one of those most deeply affected by those cracks, and you felt for her in this. The Nilean had endured a great many revelations since her arrival, many falling on her before anyone else. "This…Insight, it let you know that the Shiplords were coming back. That's how you were ready, how you were able to fight them at a place of your choosing."
"It was," you nodded again. "Insight gave us…Insight. What Phoebe and her compatriots created is one of the most enduring aspects of power given to us by Practice. You're starting to see some of that now."
"But there's more," the words were thin and twisted, much like the expression on Marshal Karak's face as he spoke. It wasn't a question. He inhaled quickly, eyes rolling a moment at the deliberately sudden intake, and tapped the hardcopy sheet laid out below him. "You know all this, but you're holding something back, something much bigger."
"Marshal," Lightseeker Hylmc admonished, but it was a faint thing. The Telas' colours were oddly muted, a testament to his own shock perhaps, but you spoke before he could continue.
"No," you shook your head, "the Marshal is right. I am…sorry that this has come at you all at once. If you wish, we could take a break, return to this tomorrow?" The representatives looked between themselves, flicking gestures and no doubt other, more involved communications across a web of signals. It didn't take long.
"We've come this far." Lorelli told you, a sharp will stirring in the Marionette's eyes. "Better to know it all now." If they'd been human, you might have asked again, but a look revealed the same defiance in all of them.
"You told me once that there was a reason for your hope," Kendl said, her hands steady in their signs. "That's what you been leading us towards with this, giving us information that you couldn't have any other way than Insight, even when it's something you can't understand."
"There are explanations for what we think happens," you pointed out, but it was without heat. Kendl flicked a questioning sign, like a look of disbelief when you knew the person in front of you was knowingly bending the truth. You couldn't deny it. "But yes. We've had time to learn to trust this, and we've tried to bring that forward slowly, in what we knew that we couldn't, from the very beginning." You signed truth, and this she couldn't deny.
"It's how we knew how to react to you, the gestures that aren't included in your cultural packages. The nuance. We never used it in bad faith, but we understood." Neil added on your heels. "But we couldn't just…tell you. Not without time to establish trust on other levels, and to be sure that what we told you wouldn't make it back to those where you've come from that would pass it to our mutual foe."
"The Shiplords are powerful beyond words," Phoebe took up the thread now, the words so similar to what she'd said to you fifteen years ago. "But they aren't invincible." That statement sent a ripple through the room, now that they knew who was making it. You nodded to Neil and he reached down, picking out the slim folders that each held a translated copy of the UPI report as Phoebe continued to talk. "They don't dedicate the resources they do to subversion just to test you, it's not that simple. They've spent millions of years controlling the races of the galaxy, ensuring that no one race, or group of races, emerges strong enough to challenge them."
"These," you said, sliding each dossier across the table to the respective delegate, "are copies of a report that Insight produced in 2109, five years before we faced the Tribute Fleet. The existence of this report is classified so highly that the only copies of it allowed to exist are like these." You tapped the folder in your hand, then flicked it out to the Confederacy Farspeaker. "Non-digital. For reason you will all understand, we request that you keep it this way. This knowledge is too dangerous to be trusted to anything that can be compromised so trivially."
"So you're giving us these," if Marshal Karak had been human, the tone would have been breathless confusion. "To keep?"
"You'll need them." You said simply, taking in all six of the representatives with a gesture. "This isn't about you, or me, or any of us in this room right now. It's much bigger than that. This is the truth that can set the galaxy free, but only if it acts together."
"There are many more races than just ours," the Farspeaker chittered.
"But you don't need all of them," Lorelli looked up from the open folder, something new sparking to life in the lines of her sculpted face. "Just a big enough spark to prove that it's right. This told you that someone would seek you out if you won, you just weren't sure who." Would this moment be remembered like the one she'd shared with you? It was a strange thought.
"Not until a few years ago," you admitted, watching as the other delegates started to leaf through their own copies. "But to summarise what's in front of you, before you dive in, we know that the Shiplords can't win a war with the entire galaxy. Insight has never steered us wrong, and the UPI report holds enough firm data to make it plausible." You paused, letting them absorb that before the bad news.
"Any war on this scale will devastate the galaxy," you continued solemnly, knowing what you were about to ask them. "Worlds will burn and stars will die. The Shiplords might even survive. But," the word was like chipped ice, slicing effortlessly through the rising reaction, "they lose everything."
"You're asking a lot, Envoy, Diplomat," Hylmc said wearily, after a long silence. "It would be our worlds that burn, our stars that die, all in the hopes that this is true. And yet," he looked down at the other dossier, the one containing information you couldn't possible have. "This is impossible. I know it is impossible. Yet it exists, and if your UPI report is born from the same source, then it must be judged as fairly as the facts you've given."
"Hylmc, what's she's asking," the steady bass of the Sarthee Representative cut through the air, and the small, heavyset being looked up across the table. You were surprised, it was truly rare for a Sarthee to use another's name. "I cannot argue against the possibility that this report is true, Envoy Hawk. But as the Lightseeker says, it is not your people that will suffer the brunt of any Shiplord attack. You are far from the centre of galactic power and only a minor power still to the Shiplords. If we rebel, they will mobilise in strength. We have seen that a handful of times since we won our home from them. I do not know if even all of our races together could stand against that."
What were you willing to offer. Information was one thing. A bond of commitment was a very different one. The Representative was right, too, at least in a way. The Contact Fleet still hadn't been told everything. In truth they never would be, not in full. But there was room still for more.
What could humanity give?
The primary options available to you in this moment, both in terms of knowledge to give or things to promise – both promises are ones Adriana already intends on making, so you won't be stepping on any toes here – are as follows:
A Storm of Swords – Humanity's navy may not impress now, but you know what Lina has designed, what she plans for the future. The FSN will stand against the Shiplords in the light of stars so very far from here. Explain what that means.
A Promise of Adamant – The Orrery isn't complete, but you've begun the process of creating it from a perspective that no other race has ever been able to. You know what a War Fleet is, you know their weakness, and you can show the working of how it might be possible to stop one.
The Miracle of Sol – During the Second Battle of Sol, you did many things, but none are as openly significant as the utter annihilation of the Medicament attached to the Tribute Fleet. The Contact Fleet has seen images of that, you've little doubt. But they still don't know how it was done, not really.
Sins of Rage – When the Medicament moved to defend the savaged Collector, it did so in violation of Tribute Fleet doctrine. You don't know exactly why, but you know what came after it was destroyed. Rage. A fury with no other purpose but to see you destroyed, that culminated in you trading not just blows, but words, with a Shiplord.
[] Write-in
There will be a manual Moratorium on this vote.
