[b]Paris, Capital City of the United Terran Federation[/b]
A tattered Federal flag lay on the ground, the Capital building it once flew proudly on now little more than a pile of rubble. A mushroom cloud dissipated in the distance, hanging over the city, a reminder of the past as well as a portentous display of the fact that history likes to repeat it's bad jokes after telling them, the way that leaves everyone involved with a disgusting taste in their mouth. The only thing louder than the screams were the air raid sirens, blaring their now-irrelevant warning constantly. The sound still pierced the hearts of the survivors with fear, it was something that was supposed to be gone, a sound long buried in the sands of time. Unfortunately, somebody had a shovel.

In the distance, trails of smoke rose up into the sky. The retaliation. Everyone stared up at them, some cheering, crying out for vengeance. Others cried, not over their friends or family, but because of what had begun. As the missiles rose up into the sky, they wept for the death to come, while all around them, broken survivors overtaken by anger cried out for more death. One man, probably in his hundreds, looked up at the missiles. He did not weep, cry out for vengeance, or stand astounded. A single tear rolled down his wrinkled face, and he spoke to the few near him in a quiet voice, as if he was ashamed of something.

"Cries for death, I have heard so many of them." He spoke in a German accent, but it was almost suppressed, like something had taken his pride in his heritage and shattered it against a four-foot thick concrete wall. "And yet here we go again, crying for retaliation, for genocide. Will we ever change?"

[b]Nouvelle, Surface[/b]
The three men bowed, thought it seemed quite obvious that they were not used to the gesture. It wasn't quite the usual respectful bow, more of an ashamed one. The woman, on the other hand, preformed a perfect curtsy. She definitely knew what she was doing, perhaps the others didn't have any experience with royalty. Of course, were that the case, it would mean that the woman did. Since nobody else had any, and they wore the same uniform, the nation she lived in must have been conquered. Unfortunately, this deduction would raise even more questions. Was she forced into the military? If so, why was she in charge, and why did she show unflinching loyalty?

"There is no need to apologize for your reaction or your own appearance." She said. "We haven't had a shower in weeks, the ship is incomplete. You see, we were rushed out here to respond to a distress call. When we found you, we decided to make contact. Apparently, someone else decided to land here as well. We don't know why, but at your level of technological development, it is likely that they came to conquer. If we work together, the safety of your people can be established. If you give us mining rights tin this system, then we will produce weapons for your troops and help modernize your industry. If you do not agree, we will still ensure your safety. anything to make up for what we have done."

The men looked at her in shock, and she realized she had let it slip. Telling a technologically superior civilization about it was one thing, they probably wouldn't be interested in an alliance. But letting a civilization that still used steam power about it could have terrible repercussions. They could refuse to allow them to provide protection, and be destroyed, there would be no chance of getting mining rights, forcing them to keep their railguns. Nevertheless, the deed was done.

"Sorry.. that last part... it just came out. Feel free to ask."

[b]Nouvelle, Space[/b]
A message was transmitted to the Iscandarian ship, from the ground. Apparently, the Terrans had already disobeyed the order.

"They have already been found by an unknown species, possibly hostile. We have no choice but to protect them. Nothing you say can change that."