thebuilder Gladiaxa G4L4XY Jenwuf RandomCommander
Ultranova dafeeeeeeeeeesh Brank FangTheCat yobeefjerky
Docking protocols are sent to the new arrivals, and as the last of the commanders filter into the hall and take their seats, Bastida clears her throat and stands, activating the holoprojector built into the table.
"My lords, please. There is no need to quibble so. We are in the orbit of one of the greatest shipyards in this or any other universe. The Forge has the capability to churn out armadas a hundred times the size of what was lost in your offensive, as well as clones to crew them. As your ships docked, they have been scanned for general structural details, and facilities have been altered to build more models. We require but the exact specifications from you and work shall commence."
As the table erupts into outroar over the revelation of the scans, she lifts her hand once more and the shouting dies away.
"While I understand your grievances, time is of the utmost essence right now. We MUST be able to make good our losses before the Mak regain their strength or all will be lost. Ten thousand years and more of history gone beneath the conversion of the swarm. So please, for the sake of us all, do something cohesive for once. For if we fail, the galaxy fails with us."