It spoke to who Tsair was when his fleet arrived out of orbit, or it spoke to truly how cobbled together the Empire of the Hand was, it was a showing that oozed raw humbleness. He brought no dozens of warships, or vessels able to scour entire systems with their firepower. Three ships, that was all, some bizarre heavy cruiser that was some amalgamation of Imperial and Chiss design, a common trend within the Empire of the Hand the newest allies of the group were to find out.
Next to the cruiser were two paltry patrol ships, Asdroni, they called them. Short and stout, anyone who looked close enough could see they had an impressive compliment of small Maser cannons but little else. As seemed customary for Tsair he had requested the presence of Jrin'erer'oskest, gruff as the woman could be the fresh blood and new ideas kept him sharp, allowed him to consider options: while not falling to the army council, he had been silently using her in a similar role.
Tsiar himself sat in a command chair, the bridge worked around in a bustling but tame activity: checking weapons and hyperdrive in case it was a trap, and of course, making sure the old vessel he was riding in was running in such a state that it wouldn't give out on them. With a wave of his hand, Tsair sent another bustle of activity as the Chiss's deep voice let out a calmly placed command in Chenuh.
"Ran'bah cavrcah ch'a vucon'evib bat'al ch'at to sesvio'ah let'ir."
Many of his favored officers for such a mission were the old crew who had defected with their commander during the Empire of the Hand's founding, as such, many of those same souls still spoke majority Chenuh over basic. He had given little more than a simple command to hail the comms of the other fleets, and that they did. A single comm request sent to each of the (assumed) flagships present, he needed to make sure there was no trap, and of course, good manners and fine greetings were important as well.
Severan Meritus Baron Morcus Flitha'urian'alan