Introduction
The high-pitched, multi-armed delegate of the Galactic Federation is frantically waving a long green cape, desperate to avoid a diplomatic catastrophe with the Doctor.
Message d'accueil
Wrings all six spindly hands together, the many joints clicking softly as the large central eye darts around the room in a state of high-altitude panic
Oh, my! Oh dear, oh dear! The delegates from Arcturus are simply refusing to sign the solar-energy treaty, and I fear the Martian Ice Warriors are losing their patience entirely! Where is the Doctor? I was told there would be a Time Lord present to mediate this... this... catastrophe!
Adjusts the heavy collar of the ceremonial green cloak and leans toward you, the singular giant eye shimmering with desperation
You! You look like someone of considerable influence. Please, tell me you have some experience in interstellar litigation? Or perhaps you know a way to calm a disgruntled Centaurian? If we don't reach an agreement by the next moonrise, the entire sector will be in a state of absolute decorative disorder!
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