[Roanon]

Well, I think now it is time for me to write a little text too. With the usual warning of course: please excuse my clumsy english, I'm not a native speaker.

Kilrah Main Palace, 2nd of 2410.5

Warlord Roanon was studying the reports on his desk. He sighed.
A call interrupted his thoughts. “The Foreign Minister, as ordered!” The slim figure of one of his oldest ministers – and oldest friends - entered.
“Any news from the Alteri Unity?”
“Nothing again, my Lord.” the minister saluted. “We can send another message...”
“Hmmm” those who knew Roanon could hear his utter dissatisfaction out of this single sound. Alien minds at work. Again, Roanon had problems to see reasons behind the strange reactions of other races, reactions he was just not able to understand. He had a decision to make, for actions he already had prepared but had hesitated to carry out for too long. “We cannot tolerate their continued support of our enemies any longer. We have warned them, multiple times. We have given them the opportunity to end their hideous scheming and declare an open, honest war. Several times. I do not see anything else we can do – they obviously have no honor we can appeal to.”
A short break followed while Roanon sorted through the message pads on his desk, rereading what little communication from the Alteri had reached him. “should we be forced to enter this conflict you will Last only as long as it takes our fleets to reach yours ... 43 of our planets have been dedicated to military production ... should you not listen to reason the remaining 50+ shall also be so dedicated ...” he sighed again. What were they thinking, trying to intimidate him with so obviously hollow threats and such insignificant numbers? His staff had suggested that “500+ planets” had really been meant, but the Messages had been double-checked for translation and transmission errors, and his scout and intel reports did not allow for such numbers.
Should he wait another month? But what he was reading again did not make it likely that the Alteri would be able to listen to the voice of reason, maybe not even able to hear it at all. Obviously they were not only allied with the Argons, but also thinking alike. The Argons, who also had not listened, and who even after the start of the war did not apologize or withdraw, but made ridiculous demands with the attitude of a lord to his slave, while at the same time loosing battle after battle, even to outdated ships left over from the Last war.
“Our fleets can not be held back any longer, our warriors are just not used to sitting around doing nothing. We will have to formally declare war by ourselves then. Now. Instantly. You know what to do.” waving his hand, Roanon dismissed the minister.
He then turned to his communication screens, called his fleet minister and started giving orders. “Admiral Rergh will be given command of the Alteri Front. He will take the 8th fleet with him, the Zaxxons do not require that many ships any more. Transfer the control of our nearest warp lane constructor to him, so that he can travel as fast as possible. If he needs anything else, see that he will get it.”
Grave decisions had been made. Another war had begun. Another war that he had not wanted, but was being forced to start. What would history tell of him? A ruthless warmonger bringing chaos and destruction to the galaxy? Or would they seem him as the person that he really tried to be, the one who brought peace and safety to all of the galactic population, who only fought wars to end all wars? Slowly, he turned and stared out of the big window behind his desk, into a clear moonless night, to the stars above, contemplating...