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And then - on the eve of the fifteenth day - another transmission appeared in our comm buffer. It originated from the Mizarian homeworld, most likely broadcasted from a ground-based transmitter array powerful enough to cover the entire inner system. Whether they Mizarians knew it or not, they had chosen to send it at a critical juncture. If impactor launched any later than today, then there would be no more uncertainty left for us to fear. The RAIN would send the launch station careening into their sun long before the weapon could reach its minimum drive ignition velocity.
And so the two of us watched the transmission, projected in a room still lit by the fires of their cobalt-blue sun. I recognized the mantle-pieces and the status markings adorning the quartet of speakers. The sonorous voice and the strange, almost poetic meter of their synthesized speech. I recognized these things well enough to despise them.
“"[TRESPASSER/HERETIC] WE HAVE JUDGED YOUR [ATROCITIES/GREAT BLASPHEMIES] AGAINST THE [LAST/SURVIVOR] SPECIES.
Know that our [device/weapon] is prepared.
Know that we can take away your home.
Know that you can still desist.
Know that this [message/offer] is all that remains.
Know futility and cease.”
- [UNSIGNED], EXECUTIVE AUDITOR, TRS NOVEMBER RAIN, AD. 2242, AUGUST 16th, PERSONAL JOURNAL
>RESPOND [With what?].
>ALLOW MERRYGATE TO RESPOND.
>IGNORE.
>Also someone roll me a 1d2, best of one. Last one. Feel free to change your vote after the roll if you wish.