While the Riken were bustling with activity, a group of over ten massive Ji warships silently broke off from the main fleet and headed toward Swarm territory.
“Where are those Ji ships headed?” The Koya Alliance’s fifty or so warships, now relegated to a corner of the starport, had a clear view of the movent.
With these colossal vessels—each over 4,000 ters long—so close by, it would’ve been impossible to miss their departure.
The Ji fleet wasn’t exactly subtle about their maneuver, so it was no surprise they were noticed. Representatives from the ten or so civilizations comprising the Koya Alliance hastily convened an ergency eting.
“Where else would they be going? Their direction makes it obvious,” one representative remarked dryly.
“But why are they going there? Could this impact our operation?” another representative asked, his voice tinged with worry.
After all, their current activities—illicit dealings with the Riken black market—were tantamount to undermining the Ji. If discovered, the consequences for their alliance might be uncertain, but for those directly involved, it could spell disaster.
“I’m not sure, but I’ve managed to glean so insider information,” another representative said, clearly relishing the mont. “A few mbers of my species were among the personnel who arrived with the Ji fleet, and thanks to that connection, I’ve gotten so details.”
It was standard Ji policy to cross-station personnel across their garrisons to avoid conflicts of interest with their original species. Most garrison personnel were assigned to posts at least 500 light-years away from their origins. However, exceptions always existed, and for various reasons, so personnel bypassed this rule, though such cases made up less than 5% of deploynts.
This ti, the representative had been lucky enough to encounter mbers of their own species among the Ji fleet. However, his attempt to create suspense by withholding the details was t with indifference. The other representatives, seasoned political players themselves, simply waited him out.
Seeing his theatrics fall flat, the representative begrudgingly continued, “Apparently, a Ji Elder is among the arriving personnel.”
“An Elder?” Everyone exhaled audibly at the ntion of the Ji Elder, the highest-ranking officials in the Ji Council of Elders.
In theory, all Elders held equal authority. While the Daqi representative’s expression darkened at the news, the others seed relieved.
“That explains it,” one representative concluded. “It must be ti to formally sign the agreents. According to protocol, it makes sense for the Ji to visit the Swarm first.”
Indeed, the representatives realized that the personnel who had arrived earlier were not of sufficient rank to finalize agreents. The agreents signed so far were rely letters of intent. Formal treaties required the participation of a Ji Elder and a corresponding high-ranking official—such as a ruler or supre leader—from the newly recognized civilizations.
Given the order of invitations, the Ji would naturally need to sign with the Swarm first before moving on to finalize their agreent with the Riken. Clearly, the departing Ji warships were transporting the Elder to et with the Swarm for this purpose.
“No matter the reason, we need to wrap up our business here quickly and minimize exposure,” one representative urged.
“Agreed. Their asking price isn’t high. Let’s pay them, get the data, and leave. The longer we linger here, the greater the risk—Elder or not, accidents can happen,” another added.
“We can’t just leave!” another representative objected. “Our stated purpose for coming here was to discuss the Daqi prisoners. If we suddenly withdraw without resolving that matter, it’ll only look more suspicious.”
“Damn it!” soone muttered under their breath as the room fell into a tense silence.
While the Koya Alliance representatives debated their next steps, the Ji warships continued toward the Swarm. As the alliance had guessed, the Ji ships were indeed en route to finalize an agreent with the Swarm.
After briefly pausing at the Planet Izumo Swarm Base to report their intentions, the Ji fleet continued on toward the Neighboring Star System.
The speed of the Ji ships was indeed impressive—what had once taken the Swarm and Riken decades to traverse now required less than a year. Back then, the actual fighting between the two races had been minimal, with most of the ti consud by the journey itself.
Luo Wen was sowhat surprised by the sudden arrival of a Ji Elder, but he had been inford of this protocol in advance. Thus, preparations had already been made, and everything proceeded smoothly.
When the Ji fleet reached the asteroid belt on the outskirts of the Neighboring Star System, a Swarm and Primordial body fleet was already stationed there to greet them. Following their guidance, the two fleets rged and proceeded together toward Planet Neighboring.
Due to the high-level nature of this eting, everything was conducted with great formality. Despite this being the Swarm’s first ti hosting such an event, all arrangents were in place, and there were no notable errors.
On Planet Neighboring, a massive underground palace had been excavated in preparation for the event. Underground structures were common among interstellar civilizations. On hostile planets, underground colonies could save significant engineering resources. However, on habitable planets, palaces constructed underground were far less typical.
Luo Wen had no clear explanation for why the Swarm’s style leaned so heavily toward underground architecture. Although he saw himself as open and optimistic, for so reason, the Swarm’s aesthetic always veered underground.
The palace’s interior was neither ostentatiously decorated nor laden with technological flourishes. Its design was raw and primitive, much like the descriptions in previous Troi reports.
Elder Hus, the Ji Elder leading the delegation, walked through the underground corridors, observing his surroundings and ntally comparing them with the information he had studied.
The walls were lined with bizarre, luminescent, fleshy plants, and while the rocky walls seed impenetrable, his suit’s sensors registered multiple warnings about hidden hollow spaces. Clearly, countless concealed passageways existed around them.
Hus harbored no doubts—if they made any wrong moves, they would be instantly overwheld by a swarm of bio-weapons. In such an environnt, surrounded underground, escape would be nearly impossible for either attackers or defenders. For the Swarm to confidently construct such an underground palace implied exceptional mastery in this domain.
Based on the Swarm’s history, this was not surprising. They excelled at subterranean warfare and concealnt.
Hus pondered whether to suggest to the Ji Council of Elders that they strengthen their own subterranean capabilities to avoid potential disadvantages in any future conflicts with the Swarm.
Hus himself was an unusual figure. He was short and stocky, with an extraordinarily long neck and a flat, wide head that extended his overall height to over two ters. His appearance was reminiscent of a tortoise without its shell, but with an elongated neck—a striking and sowhat comical presence.
Behind him followed several dozen companions and guards as they made their way to et the legendary Swarm Empress. Truthfully, the word “legendary” was an exaggeration.
Hus himself had only recently learned of the existence of a Swarm Empress. Before that, he had never even heard rumors of such a figure.
The Swarm’s ability to keep secrets was truly remarkable. Only a handful of intelligent Swarm representatives had ever interacted with outsiders, and they rarely discussed the Swarm’s internal power structure.
If not for the high-level and formal nature of this treaty, which required the participation of a civilization’s supre ruler or leader, the Empress might have remained hidden indefinitely.
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