[b] Above planet 3 of 6: Cessia, Cessian System
Shepherd Council Geostationary Satellite: 'Crook', 4:57/31/6/6188[/b]

The Arch-Shepherd Maxwell, his tall form obscured by his billowing blue robes of office, sat at the head of a jet-black table, joined by the eleven other figures, each in their robes of office. The room was absolutely silent, not even the familiar roil of machinery disturbing the still room. The Arch-Shephard waited a moment, then another, then finally raised his hand, characteristically pale with the long Cessian fingers adorned with his rings of office. All eyes were already fixed on Maxwell, though the intensity of their gaze increased dramatically as the hand motioned that the meeting was about to begin.

Maxwell spoke in a clear voice, his words filling the room to bursting, returning to the tradition so missed by the assembled councilors.

"The Council of the Shepherd convenes, at the behest of the Arch-Shepherd. All members being present at this sacrosanct convocation, our  Council shall begin, to safeguard the Dream of our people from perdition and strife."

As one, the councilors intoned reverently, their response mirroring the council of a thousand years hence.

"We are convened."

The Arch-Shepherd spoke again, the formality dropping away as his speech sped up, the accent and tone shifting from formal grace to pragmatic business. "It has been four weeks since we have been transported. This council has been convened to assess the state of the Ascendancy. Councilors, please, make your reports."

The councilor of agriculture rose first, a tall and gaunt man, his green attire less ostentatious than the Arch-Shepherd but kept even more fastidiously tidy.

"Agricultural output is at normal capacity, Shepherd. The transposition played some havok on our automated systems, but estimates put our production at 102% of mean output, well within standard deviation."

The shepherd nodded, his attention turning to the next seated figure, the Councilor of Maintenance. A similar report was given, that the Dream had not suffered technical failure.

The Councilor of the Dream rose, a particularly ugly woman, her uniform of office doing an admirable, if futile, job of hiding her portly form. She spoke in a high voice, piercing the room like a dagger.

"The Dream itself is reacting well to the change: we have nearly finished feeding memories of the shift into the Cores, only increasing our stockpiles. Estimates for longevity of the new memories are unavailable, but technicians are working on them as we speak. In addition, the Core memory is being expanded in preparation for the new contributions: it should be finished ahead of schedule."

Several more councilors passed without note. Diplomacy, the youngest councilor and newest addition, had nothing to report, neither did Civilian. Industry reported minor disruptions in the asteroid belt causing delays, production forecasted to fall short of the mean, his worries trivialized by the fact there is no-one to trade the goods with.

Exploration spoke next, a well-built man with unusually pale hair, standing somewhat shorter than the other councilors. "I am afraid, Shepherd, that our Exploration fleet has been devastated. Final counts list nearly five twelfths of our fleet has been lost in the jump. If said ships did indeed transpose to our new galaxy, they should be assumed permanently missing. Our shipyards are hard at work rebuilding our numbers, and thankfully only one sixth of our shipbourne personnel were lost. The First Exploration is underway as we speak: every unmanned ship and most Cessian explorers have set off to harvest for the Dream. Broadcasts have been sent out in all directions with rough coordinates and sentience identifiers. The projected income is almost impossible to predict, but it is needless to say that the bounty of information will be unprecedented, even with a crippled fleet. First vessels have already returned, no sentient life encountered but several varieties of fauna have already been discovered, already a bounty for the Dream."

The mood of the room lightened at the news. The weeks had been hard for every Reality-bound Cessian, but the benefits of their situation being so clearly outlined had a visibly positive effect on the assembled leaders. The Defense Councilor spoke next, a tall and attractive woman, a clear contrast to her Dream counterpart.

"The prospects for our defense are mixed. Our fortresses transported without issue, and our fleet did not lose one ship in transit. The issue is, we have no idea the capabilities of our neighbor, whomever they may be. Once our Exploratory Fleet returns to full operational capacity, I propose a radical armament plan, to take advantage of the lack of trade and put our industry to good use." 

A few councilors shook their heads. A few nodded. Most stayed silent, looking to their leader for a decision. The Arch-Shepherd spoke after a pregnant pause, once again commanding the full attention of the room. "The matter will be put to vote at the next session: there are other matters to discuss at this juncture". 

The Defense Councilor nodded obsequiously and returned to her seat. The rest of the reports passed quickly: Trade was silent, and neither Research nor Development had any news on their projects. An uneventful, but no doubt supremely welcome, council meeting, followed, with small matters being brought up and discussed, small decisions made and tweaks to various systems implemented. Progress was slower than usual, the participants tired and preoccupied with their own tasks, but after four hours the meeting came to a close, and the councilors filed out of the room, the Arch Shepherd left alone at the jet-black table.