A lone Thunderbird Gunship emerged from the warship's hangar. Worn and rugged from a lifetime of servitude, it had done much in the service of its star nation. Scratches, stains, nicks dotted its heavily armoured frame even as it was joined by a flight of six equally bruised interceptors.

One could be assured they were all in working condition. As derived from designs recorded in the AST, they could withstand multiple millennia of wear and tear and still fight. They were not beautiful, but they were sturdy. That was the most practical way to go about it.

This little group of seven craft made their way toward the looming vessel's sixth hangar, as directed by their own mother ship.

Once it became clear that the approach was open, the interceptors broke off from the formation, allowing the gunship to make its landing. The former group halted, turning about as they floated in position, gravitically anchoring themselves to the Omnipotence as they took up defensive stations. Their liege was now aboard this vessel, and as such, they would protect it to the death.

The gunship's engines slowed before coming to a full stop, a few moments of silence before a hydraulic hiss preceded the lowering of the boarding ramp.



What happened next, one might consider a small procession. A dozen armed men clad in plated white armour, gold-trimmed blue capes draped over their shoulders, marched down the ramp in double file. Upon reaching the level surface of the floor, the squad split apart and turned to face the space in between, hoisting their rifles over their shoulders in an armed salute.

Anyone taking scouter readings would note that they were ordinary. Extremely low double digits at best. These were no terrifying warriors. Merely soldiers who fought with unparalleled valour and courage, who earned a place as part of the Albarican Archducal Guard. A ceremonial place to be sure, but they were after all, only there to put up with appearances.

Each one of them understood that they were not chosen for their power, but their loyalty unto death.

After all, why would a child of the Sovereign require a true Praetorian Guard at a diplomatic meeting? Naive. Perhaps. Arrogant. Possible, depending on how you saw it. One might also see it as a display of peaceful intent. The Suzerain was knowingly entrusting herself to the security of the host.

Of course, it might also have been possible that these foreigners were purely technological in nature, and have not discovered ki.



Next to descend was a tall man clad in crimson armour, long dark hair flowing immaculately as he took his position at the front of the formation. He too turned to face the internal space of the walkway delineated by the troops.

A quick reading would put him at a mere few hundreds, as though he evidently exuded enough power to be considered their superior. Sir Grayvian, Knight Lord of Talc. A straightforward man with a deadpan disposition.

Nevertheless, one who also served with loyalty.

An observant user with an attuned sense would note that his true power, however, was suppressed. How far did it go? Impossible to tell, as he kept it tight with the ability of one who wielded the skill as second nature.



Finally, the Suzerain came down the ramp, moving with an imperious confidence that exuded her character, despite wielding what many would consider a paltry thousand. Clad in her armour, something befitting one who took station aboard a warship.

This was, more or less, what she wore aboard the Eildon outside of her quarters. It only followed that she would be wearing this same attire aboard another vessel. The Imperial Throneworld of Mitra was not a vessel. As such, she was visiting the Emperor of the Galaxy not out in the field, but on land. Hence, the formal cloth, rather than this particularly combative attire.

Each step down the aisle of guardsmen, with the gravity and intent of a dozen worlds. One might consider that a sensible comparison, given how each step she took in this realm was one step closer to saving the countless worlds under her rule.

She came to a stop at the very front of the procession, head held high, green eyes filled with a cold intensity as she gazed upon her counterpart. So this was the Emperor of Kabocha. An impressive man on first glance, one who possessed a keen intelligence. Especially with how he had clearly instructed his men to eschew any sort of formality in their formation, and instead prioritize tactically advantageous positions.

They were poised for a battle, not a meeting between heads of state.

It was good to know that rational minds held power in this galaxy. Of course, a rational mind was no guarantee of success, but it was one step closer to it. Certainly far better than those run by emotion, or faulty deductions.

She would see whether or not this meeting was worth it. From what she could see, however, things could get off to a rather good start. He had taken this first contact encounter with the caution of one prepared to face the unknown.

That he did not shoot before asking questions meant that there was a certain degree of openness. But beyond that, it was up to her to turn this potentially useful state of posture into something that could be used to ensure Albarica's success.

Having finished surveying the hangar, she raised her left hand.

Sir Grayvian stepped up to her side, stopping just behind her. "Your Majesty," he addressed the one standing opposite their number, "I present Rhomynia I, Suzerain of the Albarican White Empire."

Were he given the choice, he would not have spoken with such assumptions. There had, after all, been many an encounter where the leader was such a trickster that he would not meet with them directly, at least at first. Sometimes, the head of state would actually be a body double, and the true instance either hiding amongst his men, or entirely off-site.

Sometimes, the leader would speak through a drone. Sometimes, they would outright refuse meeting on even ground, and a mere general would represent them.

The reasons varied as much as the means. But sure enough, there were nations out there who were uncomfortable with meeting face to face.

Now, he would see if they were one such nation, or if they were straightforward as the spines on his pauldrons.

Sir Grayvian surveyed the Emperor's entourage. Diverse, each a representative of their own civilization and culture. From the prim and proper, to the grizzled and battle-hardened. From skin, to scales, to steel. Yet all possessing the clear discipline of a unified, well-oiled engine. A stark contrast to the uniformity of the guard detail he presently led, yet nevertheless an apt mirror, of sorts. Never mind the matter of what race that fit beneath the veil of the Albarican Guardsman's armour, as they were united by that single overarching culture. Race was merely a matter of circumstance, and meant little to him.

Culture was something inculcated within the individual, the result of intelligent interaction between them and the group. That was something he viewed as a key to long-term success, assimilation. The reason why the Sovereign promoted a particular mindset over the countless worlds he conquered, creating a united framework underneath the diverse racial superstructure.

Having well understood this method, it was wise for the Suzerain to follow such a procedure, projecting herself as the rightful heir to the Sovereign's reign. Most of the changes were primarily cosmetic. With a little smattering of Albarican chivalry, as more of a cherry laid atop the impressive drink that was a thoroughly Golden civilization.

This hastened the integration of reconquered territories quickly enough, many of whom welcomed a return of Agartha-based principles.

In comparison, this appeared to be a Confederacy in the truest sense of the word, several rungs higher on the ladder of decentralization. Multiple cultures cooperating in the name of some common goal. Camaraderie that bound them such that they expressed a unity not of form, but of function. At the end of the day, it was the latter that truly mattered. As to what this goal was, it could have been anything from fostering prosperity, to facing some outside enemy.

Ah, yes, that sounded like a reasonable rallying cry, if the Kabochan Emperor's words were anything to go by. But the Knight Lord would remain silent on the matter, as he had spoken his part. This was a meeting between sovereigns, and he was but a vassal. His time to speak had come and gone.

Sir Grayvian gave a hand signal, and the squad took on a less ceremonial position, lining up into two six-man rows behind him. They would of course, be accompanying the Suzerain to wherever she decided to hold their meeting. As such, they stood at the ready.



The Suzerain stepped forth and gave her own bow, the acknowledgement of a guest aboard a host's vessel. "Well met, Emperor Cam," were the first words from her mouth as she placed her hands behind her back in a tidy, at-ease fashion. In comparison to Emperor Polaris, this Majesty was far more relaxed, but certainly no less keen. That wasn't to say that the Emperor of the Galaxy was not loose when he wanted to be, but "Cam" displayed this approach right out the gate.

This could be comprehended as either a handy disarming tactic, or a test of good faith. Whichever it was, one could still remain careful despite reciprocating a degree of this informality. "As a matter of proper courtesy, I shall acquiesce to your request. In turn, you may refer to me as 'Mynia'. Though forgive me if I retain the use of a title in addressing you, as I have been raised to give offices only the deepest respect."

Perhaps for some people watching, hearing 'Emperor Cam' sounded tacky. But such was the influence of culture that the Suzerain did not really care for such opinions. He was the sovereign of this Confederacy, and his sovereignty would be acknowledged. As he figured correctly, the Albarican culture did not eschew formality where it was placed on a certain pedestal. If you were on a first name basis with someone, then two things were certain: firstly, you were peers. Secondly, you were at a social stratum that did not demand such degrees of formality.

Of course, considering he removed his eyewear in order to properly display a sign of respect, this Emperor held some deference to the idea. There could certainly be respect without formality, but acknowledging a a peer's perception of how one should show respect was a sign of his wisdom.

"Know that we come in peace, and that we intend to maintain such a state, despite the present conditions in your galaxy." There really was no stake in how things progressed here, although when one sought knowledge as the sort she pursued, it was always important to keep one's doors open, and to choose wisely when the time came. A teacher of one art might stand in opposition to the teacher of another, and thus refuse to impart their knowledge.

"Your conference rooms will be a welcome change of scenery. I see no reason to hold your nation and army suspect. While I maintain the use of some of the more ceremonious aspects of our culture, deeds are more important than image to me when it comes to ascertaining interactions with others."

Yes, some of their men appeared grizzled, a few even relatively intimidating. But they answered to a discipline that dictated their actions. With this in mind, there was indeed nothing to fear about this Crusher Corps so long as her delegation did their part to remain civil.

The Suzerain calmly swept a hand to the side in a gesture of beckoning the Emperor to lead the way. "We would be most grateful if we could be shown to one of these more appropriate venues to speak of." Whichever way it would be led, of course, the delegation would follow, moving in complete lockstep with its liege as though they were parts of her.

Perhaps to get some discussion started, she would begin with some talk. "I couldn't help but notice, Emperor Cam, that this vessel of yours is of a unique construction. We have yet to encounter anything of a similar design along our sojourn here. Is it a personal project?"

It was impressive in scale. Some would argue the Imperial Throneworld of Mitra was greater, but that was a world, and served a different purpose from a warship such as this. Others would argue that it was too big, that the same amount of mass could be used to construct a far more flexible fleet of smaller vessels. But she was not one such critic. After all, the AST's designs all seemed to be 'needlessly' large, and she never questioned its creators' logic. The extra space was necessary for future long-term modifications - and the ferrying of immense amounts of men and materiel - if a vessel was intended to fight an eternal war.

Most people unfamiliar with the procedures of diplomacy would think that it began and ended in the conference room. But this was a grave misconception. The business of diplomacy began as soon as the delegations met. Whether that was in the conference room, or at a transportation hub where the guests were greeted depended on how both parties decided to approach the affair.

For one such as the Suzerain, she did prefer to speak to her counterparts as soon as possible. The reasoning was plain and simple, really. The sooner one met with their other half, the sooner they could begin to learn about each other. Knowledge was power, the greatest treasure the Albarican culture valued. While chivalry served as sword and shield to the culture, knowledge was the knight that wielded them.

Yet another stark contrast between the two sovereigns she had met so far. Emperor Polaris directed her to the conference room, where she was first examined by his AI assistant. One should of course give him the benefit of the doubt, considering the extremely short notice, the fact that their entrance was relatively standoffish, and the fact that they had approached a planet.

In all likelihood, the Emperor of the Galaxy was busy with breakfast, or some other morning affair, and had to get dressed before meeting her. And he certainly dressed appropriately for the occasion.

Emperor Cam, on the other hand, was aboard a warship, possibly in the middle of the day. It would have been little consequence for him to come down from the bridge to the hangar on similarly short notice. No need to change garb.

Nevertheless, this face to face exchange of introductions was far more intimate than the one she had experienced on Mitra. It gave them the freedom to get through the small talk on the way to the conference room, and get a firmer grasp on each others' personalities.

Emperor Cam was very open, but by no means foolish. He quickly noted, for example, a potential comparison in the titles they used. To which she would of course, answer. "It is comparable, in the sense of a sovereign ruling over multiple holdings, yes." The similarity had its limits, however. "I would consider it somewhat modest, in comparison to that of an Emperor, at least, where we hail from. It is a title that was selected as a response to the circumstances at the time."

Said circumstances being... "Albarica, you see, is a successor state to a much larger realm that is well along the process of a slow collapse. As such, I cannot rightfully call myself Empress... Sovereign... for I do not rule the entire Empire." Instead, she ruled a segment of it that swore fealty to her throne. A Suzerain ruled multiple realms. A Sovereign ruled a single realm. One might think that the Albaricans had this logic backward, but they understood the implications of the Sovereign using that title for himself. The Sovereign intended to unite the entire universe under his rule. There would be no other realms, had he finished what he started. All mortals would submit to his reign.

Albarica, on the other hand, had to work to assume control of all the petty kingdoms that arose in light of the Sovereign's death and the fragmentation of his vast empire.

The Albarican delegation followed the Emperor's entourage down the hall, and each one listened carefully to his explanations regarding the origins of this gargantuan vessel. He was detailed, but concise, providing just the key bits of information. Its name. Its discovery. Feasible speculations of its origins. Its relative place in the fleet.

To Mynia, who had read up on the conflicts between the Kabochans and Ikondans, this provoked a subtle raising of an eyebrow. There were a few scenarios that could explain this. They had made some headway on peace negotiations. The Kabochans finally gained the upper hand and conquered their foes. Or... they decided to unite against a greater common threat.

The latter was of course, a favored tactic among some empire builders, allowing them to quickly set aside their differences in order to deal with an enemy that threatened them both. Depending on various factors, this alliance could then remain a powerful unified empire after defeating this foe, or they could go back to warring nations.

Regardless, it would not be hard to investigate and see which it was. There were more important parts about this report. "Yes, we are aware of the Kaioshin and their role as creators, and as wise teachers." They were also well aware of the Destroyers, and the intricate balance played out by the two sets of deities. For the Suzerain herself, both were recounted from first hand experience. The wise teacher Zig, and the mighty destroyer Geene. "It must be fascinating to learn that your people's origins might very well be closely connected with those who hold providence."

Her eyes wandered along the orbs that lined the hall at intervals, how crewmen of Kabochan blood seamlessly interfaced with them. Origins in another galaxy... one that no longer existed. Perhaps Lord Beerus had something to do with that. Who else could hold the authority to dispense such destruction?

Even now, back home, Geene's intervention continued, destroying thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, of worlds a day in order to stem the tide of the war. And yet, the gods' own effectiveness at growing and managing Universe 12 had turned against them. The rate of conquest and reconstruction far outstripped his ability to destroy. It was fascinating that he did not simply decide to cast Destruction on entire galaxies at a time... this demonstrated that he possessed restraint, surgical precision... understanding that in a multitude of divided galaxies, dwelt countless innocents who had yet to be reached by the conflict.

"What do you make of such implications?" Was Emperor Cam someone who cared about the past? Someone who learned from it and moved on? Or someone who gave it no heed? That would be another key point.

The group entered the conference room, with its hefty table. The Crushers took their designated places, as the Emperor invited the Albarican delegation to take seat. As one might expect, the Guardsmen remained standing at attention, while the Suzerain and her vassal took Cam up on his offer. "While we certainly do not believe there exists any animosity between us, it would be best that our protection remain prepared, in the event of unexpected circumstances. We are, after all, neither in your territory nor mine. As for refreshments, we shall have whatever is compatible with Abbayoran standard diets. Our scholars have come to the conclusion that much of the food here suits us quite nicely, interestingly enough..."

He did leave open room for one last question, though. Now was a better time than any. "If I may make one last inquiry, as you say. You stated earlier that we are an affirmation of some of your personal assessments. If these are not too private, may we know what those might be?"

Even in her seated position, her posture retained its regal disposition. She was not some person reclining at a table, but an alert delegate sitting tall. All senses open to everything that would be discussed. "Without the appropriate means, travel between galaxies with standard hyper is a journey of many lifetimes. The void of darkspace appears to interfere with the efficiency of most standard supraluminal engines. We have, fortunately, developed such means so as to make the journey achievable within a meaningful amount of time."

The AST's Warp Engines made such travel relatively trivial.

"What we seek is knowledge. Our home is under siege, and we have ventured here to seek a solution to this problem. Knowledge that is not available from where we come. If you wish me to elaborate further, you need only ask."

Sir Grayvian's eyebrow rose at the Emperor's statement. You. It appeared as though his assessment was that there existed something out there that threatened this galaxy. No, not just this galaxy. It threatened the universe. The destruction off galaxies, of clusters of galaxies. It was particularly bothersome to know that the pale dot in the distance, the light of what should have been a galaxy, was in fact, long gone.

Light could only go so fast, after all.

If they relied on it, then this warning would have arrived too late.

That being said, it did not take much imagination for the Knight Lord to comprehend the destruction of two galactic clusters. He had conquered clusters before. Well, 'conquered' was giving him too much credit. He was a cog in a vast machine that did so with ruthless efficiency. Having spent a century or two serving the Sovereignty as part of the Golden Armada, he was present at many briefings that cast entire clusters as a single theatre of conquest.

Sometimes, it would contain hundreds of galaxies. Sometimes, it would contain thousands. The sheer scale was incomprehensible at a personal level. After all, he only ever personally saw battlefields on planets. But such was the efficiency and number of the Armada that conquering a galaxy would take mere weeks. Within a year, they would have taken a large portion of a Galactic Group, and given a few decades, the entire Cluster would fall under Sovereign rule.

Times had changed greatly since the Sovereign's death.

The presence of opposing forces of similar or greater power meant that in nearly five centuries, the most they could scrape out was several dozen galaxies. They did not have the endless resources of the Armada. Worse, the Armada waited for them to challenge its power. The very thought sent a chill up his spine, if one that he managed to keep behind his poker facade.

"And these are..." he pointed at the items in question on the hologram. "These are entire clusters, you say."

He brought a hand to his chin in thought as he took some of the horderves for himself. "Destroyed. That, is a very troublesome prospect." He spoke matter of factly, one might say almost casually. Perhaps it was the centuries of having seen such wide scale war. Perhaps it was centuries of practicing his poker face. Regardless, he did not approach the subject with a visible note of fear. And yet, to think that something that took decades to conquer... could be destroyed in an equal, perhaps smaller amount of time... "I understand that this is a scale hundreds of times... possibly thousands... greater than what we see here."

He continued to listen as the Emperor spoke of meeting a so-called 'legendary Super Saiyan' from Universe Six. Amongst other beings from other galaxies and dimensions. Truly, this one galaxy was a unique anomaly, in that outsiders were all drawn to it in some way or another. Perhaps it was because of the power they possessed.



An honest confession of his humble beginnings. One who had the freedom to choose, rather than one thrust into place by forces of destiny. Of course he could set aside such concepts. And she had no interest in debating him on the matter. The Suzerain opened her mouth to speak, afterwards taking a sip from the offered glass of water. "You are familiar with the creators, the Kaioshin. Have you heard of their counterparts, the Hakaishin? The Destroyers. They are imbued with a special authority over reality to completely erase entities from existence."

Scale did not matter to a God of Destruction. A thousand galaxies, a single galaxy, a star, a planet, a city, a person... even a mere dish sitting on a table. All were the same, all could equally be annihilated with a single command. Lord Geene used this with precision. Lord Beerus, who ruled here, might not have such patience.

"If a Destroyer was responsible for these disappearances, my Liege, then he must have done a very sloppy job," Grayvian quipped. "Otherwise, we would not have so many seeking refuge here."

The Suzerain nodded. "True. To attribute these losses to a Destroyer would be an insult to his efficacy." Her eyes narrowed at the mention of one who sought to destroy the gods. "Such an individual who would declare war on the heavens cannot be abode. If he possesses the power, then we must put him in his place."

"My Liege, I do not think that it is within the interests of the Empire."

"If the heavens fall, Sir Grayvian, then the Empire is lost." The gods were necessary to give her what she desired. They were necessary for the salvation of Albarica. "I apologize for the outburst, Emperor Cam. Do continue."

And so he would lay out his desire for Unity. To bring the galaxy together against this mysterious existential threat. Now, she understood what brought all these disparate races together into a single disciplined entity. Complete destruction was a rather valid reason to set aside ancient rivalries, cultural divisions, and racial hatreds.

But just what were they up against? It could not have been divine wrath. Aside from the fact that a Destroyer would not be so sloppy with their work, there was also the fact that a Destroyer could move anywhere in the universe within a minuscule amount of time, thanks to his angelic attendant.

This threat was something else. And why should she care?

This galaxy won the Tournament of Power. Were it to be destroyed, its secrets to that victory would be lost... and with it, her last chance to save Albarica without having to resort to Eternal War.

Now, Emperor Cam made an offer. In return for knowledge, he would ask for their assistance in return. Knowledge, and technology - applied knowledge, essentially - that would aid him in more quickly unifying the galaxy.

To demonstrate his point, the Kabochan ruler unleashed his full power after a calming warning. As his appearance changed, and his power level surged, so did everybody take it as he requested. The Albarican Guardsmen remained motionless. Sir Grayvian rubbed his chin as he studied the level of power that had been attained.

It was intense, undoubtedly impressive. Enough to overpower a Centurion if he could equal them in endurance. Commanding a Legion, he could very well conquer a galaxy if he so wished. This of course brought the Suzerain to wonder, just how powerful Emperor Legume would be, if he revealed his full power to her. That was what she always assumed with this galaxy. Those of importance would no doubt be more powerful than she was. And yet for some reason, everybody seemed to be so... cautious... with concealing their power, with Emperor Cam even stating his desire for its secrecy.

It seemed that there was such a vast gulf between the common folk, and those who engaged in battle. Why was it so? What was so special about the people of this universe that they could achieve such great heights, and yet at large, remain so fragile?

She remained stoic throughout the entire display. Perhaps she had seen greater powers before. Perhaps she was simply such an expert at hiding her feelings that she had completely buried her shock. Her attendant's reaction was more visible, with his clearly studious approach to it, but he seemed no more impressed.

The Suzerain might have mastered her emotions, but Sir Grayvian displayed some of his earlier. Were he surprised, it would have shown. Instead, he appeared to be performing mental calculations, as if comparing the Emperor to other individuals he had met.

"I can see why you would wish to keep this power secret," the Suzerain began. "It makes the galaxy quiver." But what of the refuge he offered? "You speak of petty kingdoms run by haughty nobles, civil wars fought between the lost, and conflicts ignited by warlords for profit. Are you suggesting that we may harbour at one of these worlds once you have liberated them from their oppressors?"

"My Liege, if you were to grant me the honour, I would assist the good Emperor in his efforts to free these downtrodden folk," the crimson knight stood from his seat and crossed his chest with an armoured fist.

"Lord Grayvian, need I remind you of our accord with the Powers That Be?" She had struck an agreement with the Supreme Kai, and Lord Beerus' attendant. She would not be allowed to conquer.

She would not be the one leading this unification.

The Knight Lord cleared his throat. "Respectfully, My Liege, I understand the stipulations of the accord. We are not to conquer. But, you said so yourself. The intent is to liberate these folk from the chaos and destruction that besets them. We need not rule these worlds, so long as we are offered harbour as recompense for our services."

Perhaps for the first time, the smallest hint of emotion manifested itself as her eyebrows ever so slightly almost somewhat furrowed. The Suzerain did not like it when people argued with her. Especially when it came to matters such as oaths. Especially this particular oath. It could get them booted from Universe Seven.

She closed her eyes and thought. "Given such a noble intent, we would have to be extremely careful so as to not make it appear as though we act in conquest, or in support of it." As she opened her eyes, her gaze would turn back to Emperor Cam. "I am of the assumption that you seek a peaceful unification. A willing assimilation of these worlds into your fold, once liberated. Your message of opposing this Great Devastator rings true with one such as myself, who can see things on such a scale. It should resonate with those who only wish for peace on their homeworlds."

The Suzerain took a moment to have another drink. "I will send Knights on Errantry to assist in liberating these worlds. They shall serve as champions to the weak and oppressed, liberators who break the shackles of tyrants, end the chaos of civil war, and crush the ambitions of petty warlords. Where the original governments can be salvaged to ensure proper treatment of their people, I shall let them be, and spread your message. How they react is up to them. If they hold any desire for continued protection, they should assimilate with enough foreword. Where the government must be rebuilt from the ground up, I leave to your Confederacy to do so. We are here to explore... and we will certainly liberate the oppressed. But we shall not rule."

Another pause, as more thoughts came to mind. Silently contemplating, she would take a bite of an apple and swallow before speaking next. "Our presence here, I would prefer to keep sequestered. By the time my Knights are done, they would be naught but myths, or apparently local heroes. As such, I cannot provide you with any technology that betrays our origin as extragalactic. We can, however, offer you practical technologies that could be applied to the field."

The Agarthan Standard Template. An ancient repository of all Sovereign knowledge accumulated over dozens of millennia. A repository that continued to grow up until its abrupt disruption a few centuries ago. Since the Sovereign's death, the Template has been broken, scattered to the Warp in countless pieces. Albarica was fortunate to serve under the Chief Scholar, who worked on creating a secondary backup within the Albarican galaxy itself. His work was nowhere near complete, but it meant they possessed a greater library than everyone else.

Still, progress on restoring the entire Template was slow, and required a total reconquest of the Sovereignty. At the present rate, that might be at the end of an Eternal War... if Eternal War could conceivably ever have and end. "What requirements might you have? I wish to temper your expectations, however, as I will note: our most commonly used technologies are ancient. As you can see with our ships, they are rugged. Worn, from strife we have fought at home. Most of our knowledge was lost to a great cataclysm, and more effort is put into recovering what has been lost, rather than rediscovering them all over again." That consisted of conquering galaxies, taking control of their WarpNet Relays, and then reconnecting them to the Albarican WarpNet. That was far more efficient than going back to the laboratories, seeing as each one was worth countless reams of research and development.

"What I can tell you, however, is that they are reliable. Knowing that, are you certain that you desire our technology?"