Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
I'm convinced of this NES's viability. Expressing possible future interest.
SLYNES - Swirly Lights Yonder, a Never Ending Story
- Thread starter Bil
- Start date
Bil
Prince of Space
Excellent 
You're always welcome.
You're always welcome.
Transmission
Captain Thoh stared at the dull grey block hovering several kilometres away from his ship.
“Sir, we’re picking up a message- I believe it’s attempting a communication.”
“Can you tell what it’s saying?”
“It’s sending off... a series of pulses. One, Three, Five, Eleven, Thirteen-”
“Prime Numbers... I think it’s giving us some sort of test. Begin transmitting the same numbers back.”
“We’re getting signals on several other channels. This one... seems random.” A long pattern of pulses were being visually mapped out on Hadat Ra’s screen.
“And we’re getting something very complicated in the middle ranges. I believe it’s a series of frequencies.”
“Play it out.”
Speakers in the control room suddenly began to play. A strange warbling noise, like some air being pushed through a warped wooden musical tube, mumbled balefully through the room. After some time, it simply began to repeat.
“Run some pattern recognition on it.”
“It’ll take some time sir.”
“We’ve got that. Ra, any progress?”
The Hithethan’s mind was manipulating the series of symbols in his head, finding all varieties of permutation and repetition. With a satisfied click of his jaws, it all fell into place. The single line of data unfolded into a two dimensional image of three dimensional space- further data replicates replaced this original image with something very slightly different, showing an animated schematic of the planetary system.
“It’s a map, Thoh.”
“Interesting.”
“It seems to be a representation of this very system we’re in.”
Captain Baheb Thoh shuffled over and tapped a button above Ra’s console, projecting the image into the center of the room. He looked up and enjoyed the alien depiction of an alien star system. Fascinating. Part of him analyzed the system and compared it to his observations in the preliminary survey. Another part simply enjoyed the dramatically increased movement speed of the planets in the depiction, watching them whirl around their star. Some of him was reminiscing. At 22 years old, Thoh was the oldest and highest-ranked officer in the Stellar Navy of the Thaej Alliance, and... he was glad to be able to experience this before he died. Perhaps he would speak of this discovery to his clade if he was to someday return to Thaej...
All the while, of course, he was planning his next action.
“Have the prime numbers been transmitted?”
“Yes sir.”
“Good. Prepare a video to transmit to this alien vessel. It’s time to introduce ourselves.
Ulok was shifted from her reverie by a new transmission, and a flashing light indicating a previous message. Checking the latter first, she noted that the prime numbers had been reflected back to her, followed by a second, altered series. A few moments of consideration revealed them to be the primes again, but coded in a base six numerical system, as opposed to her familiar base eight.
The next message was far larger. She quickly recognized the format- it was the very same as that she had used to transmit the map. With a feeling on the verge of interest, she reintegrated the visual signal. A beeping noise distracted her as her sensors picked up another response- an audio transmission. While the video compiled in her ship’s outdated computer, she listened to a strange sound never before heard by any of her species. A soft, whispery sound, interspersed with periodic clicking and popping noises. The voice of the beings within the mysterious ship, perhaps?
Further considerations were cut short by the beginning of the video. Starting with an image of the Krull system, the camera zoomed in on two vessels on the very edge- her own, and the alien ship, with its strange rounded dome of a prow and a long tail trailing behind. The camera continued to zoom in, passing through the immaterial walls and revealing the interior of the ship, with several bizarre creatures within. A subtle change in the image quality suggested that the video had just switched from animation to actual footage- but it was not that detail that captured the Orindi’s attention. Ulok had expected aliens to perhaps be larger, or more menacing... but she hadn’t been fully prepared for just how different their body plans were. These beings had no sort of top-bottom symmetry... although now that she considered it, they weren’t that grossly different. They had three thin arms on top and 3 thick legs at the bottom, and a vase-shaped torso in between. Little lights which she thought might be eyes decorated the upper reaches of the torso, and fringes of whiskers ringed their circumference below.
The alien was moving slightly and gesturing- perhaps the sound transmission was meant to go along with it. Oh well, that could be determined later. After a brief pan around the control room, revealing several others of the species, the camera moved back out, accelerating out of the system until Krull was just one tiny star among millions. For a brief moment, the greater structure of the galaxy became visible before the camera began to zoom in again, on a nearby region of space in the same galactic arm. It plummeted towards a orange-toned star, before diverging away and moving in towards an orange planet. Racing through the atmosphere, it settled down at ground level, showing several bizarre ribbed structures emerging out of vast fields of a reddish mesh and grand forests of violet trees. Many, many more of the aliens were visible moving around in the scene, before it faded out of sight and a collection of strange glyphs appeared. Each one highlighted, one at a time. Ulok now considered her hypothesis that the sounds and images were intended to go together as true- these flashing glyphs could be meant to correspond to a point in the audio track which had played a few seconds previously, where the relatively smooth language had suddenly become cut up into isolated, individual sounds. Fascinating- her observations were certainly worth mentioning in her report to Ogulia City.
Finally, the image returned to the original alien. The creature spoke something, then folded its arms down in on themselves, forming 3 loops- possibly some sort of gesture. The movie came to its close.
“Interesting.”
Several minutes later, the signals reached the orbital cities above Yellor, to be received by a much more interested audience.
Captain Thoh stared at the dull grey block hovering several kilometres away from his ship.
“Sir, we’re picking up a message- I believe it’s attempting a communication.”
“Can you tell what it’s saying?”
“It’s sending off... a series of pulses. One, Three, Five, Eleven, Thirteen-”
“Prime Numbers... I think it’s giving us some sort of test. Begin transmitting the same numbers back.”
“We’re getting signals on several other channels. This one... seems random.” A long pattern of pulses were being visually mapped out on Hadat Ra’s screen.
“And we’re getting something very complicated in the middle ranges. I believe it’s a series of frequencies.”
“Play it out.”
Speakers in the control room suddenly began to play. A strange warbling noise, like some air being pushed through a warped wooden musical tube, mumbled balefully through the room. After some time, it simply began to repeat.
“Run some pattern recognition on it.”
“It’ll take some time sir.”
“We’ve got that. Ra, any progress?”
The Hithethan’s mind was manipulating the series of symbols in his head, finding all varieties of permutation and repetition. With a satisfied click of his jaws, it all fell into place. The single line of data unfolded into a two dimensional image of three dimensional space- further data replicates replaced this original image with something very slightly different, showing an animated schematic of the planetary system.
“It’s a map, Thoh.”
“Interesting.”
“It seems to be a representation of this very system we’re in.”
Captain Baheb Thoh shuffled over and tapped a button above Ra’s console, projecting the image into the center of the room. He looked up and enjoyed the alien depiction of an alien star system. Fascinating. Part of him analyzed the system and compared it to his observations in the preliminary survey. Another part simply enjoyed the dramatically increased movement speed of the planets in the depiction, watching them whirl around their star. Some of him was reminiscing. At 22 years old, Thoh was the oldest and highest-ranked officer in the Stellar Navy of the Thaej Alliance, and... he was glad to be able to experience this before he died. Perhaps he would speak of this discovery to his clade if he was to someday return to Thaej...
All the while, of course, he was planning his next action.
“Have the prime numbers been transmitted?”
“Yes sir.”
“Good. Prepare a video to transmit to this alien vessel. It’s time to introduce ourselves.
Ulok was shifted from her reverie by a new transmission, and a flashing light indicating a previous message. Checking the latter first, she noted that the prime numbers had been reflected back to her, followed by a second, altered series. A few moments of consideration revealed them to be the primes again, but coded in a base six numerical system, as opposed to her familiar base eight.
The next message was far larger. She quickly recognized the format- it was the very same as that she had used to transmit the map. With a feeling on the verge of interest, she reintegrated the visual signal. A beeping noise distracted her as her sensors picked up another response- an audio transmission. While the video compiled in her ship’s outdated computer, she listened to a strange sound never before heard by any of her species. A soft, whispery sound, interspersed with periodic clicking and popping noises. The voice of the beings within the mysterious ship, perhaps?
Further considerations were cut short by the beginning of the video. Starting with an image of the Krull system, the camera zoomed in on two vessels on the very edge- her own, and the alien ship, with its strange rounded dome of a prow and a long tail trailing behind. The camera continued to zoom in, passing through the immaterial walls and revealing the interior of the ship, with several bizarre creatures within. A subtle change in the image quality suggested that the video had just switched from animation to actual footage- but it was not that detail that captured the Orindi’s attention. Ulok had expected aliens to perhaps be larger, or more menacing... but she hadn’t been fully prepared for just how different their body plans were. These beings had no sort of top-bottom symmetry... although now that she considered it, they weren’t that grossly different. They had three thin arms on top and 3 thick legs at the bottom, and a vase-shaped torso in between. Little lights which she thought might be eyes decorated the upper reaches of the torso, and fringes of whiskers ringed their circumference below.
The alien was moving slightly and gesturing- perhaps the sound transmission was meant to go along with it. Oh well, that could be determined later. After a brief pan around the control room, revealing several others of the species, the camera moved back out, accelerating out of the system until Krull was just one tiny star among millions. For a brief moment, the greater structure of the galaxy became visible before the camera began to zoom in again, on a nearby region of space in the same galactic arm. It plummeted towards a orange-toned star, before diverging away and moving in towards an orange planet. Racing through the atmosphere, it settled down at ground level, showing several bizarre ribbed structures emerging out of vast fields of a reddish mesh and grand forests of violet trees. Many, many more of the aliens were visible moving around in the scene, before it faded out of sight and a collection of strange glyphs appeared. Each one highlighted, one at a time. Ulok now considered her hypothesis that the sounds and images were intended to go together as true- these flashing glyphs could be meant to correspond to a point in the audio track which had played a few seconds previously, where the relatively smooth language had suddenly become cut up into isolated, individual sounds. Fascinating- her observations were certainly worth mentioning in her report to Ogulia City.
Finally, the image returned to the original alien. The creature spoke something, then folded its arms down in on themselves, forming 3 loops- possibly some sort of gesture. The movie came to its close.
“Interesting.”
Several minutes later, the signals reached the orbital cities above Yellor, to be received by a much more interested audience.
Within the Tower
The six Hletho stood for a moment, looking around the huge chamber. It had not at all been expected that such a system could even exist- these aliens had truly impressive technology, although there was something inscrutably... wrong with the design. Perhaps it was the blocky angularity, clashing with the fantastic refinement- it looked like what youd get if a Sahlon had tried to apply some superficial changes to an item of Rhoan manufacture- or for a human metaphor, like someone had tried to give a 60 year old tractor spoilers and racing stripes and called it a sportscar.
Nonetheless, the tower was quite fascinating. Hletho arent ones to typically be impressed, but they all held varying levels of appreciation- or envy- of the feat.
Sam and Mo stood beside each other, both relieved to be seeing each other again.
Thats the fellow you were talking about earlier? asked Mo.
Yes. Or one of them, at least.
Hmm.
The creature within the walker finished its broken speech. Daeja, who was taking rather enthusiastically to her role as the main communicator with the aliens, spoke in response.
Hello Warden! I am Lico Daeja- Lico is my Clade and Daeja is my name. I am a Hletho and my home is the land of Hitheth, on the Planet Thaej, around the Star Haedkhad. We can tell you about ourselves, and would like to learn about yourselves as well. We will be your guests until we learn of our location and are able to return to our home... and we do eat. We eat Thotha, Meat, and Plant Matter- I am not sure that you can translate jargon yet, but we have samples on the Hraef.
Daeja made a respectful gesture and backed up, standing side-by-side with the rest of the Hletho.
Im... not entirely sure that was well-advised. Mo noted, quietly.
But theyre so frank and straightforward- like children- I think we ought to respond in kind. Also and they did rescue our vessel.
They havent been straightforward. whispered Mo, We docked with them- why did we dock with them?
That would be me. interjected Sam, It was as if I wanted nothing but to move to them. Its that empathic connection I was talking about earlier.
Okay, so they manipulated us into docking with them, isolated one of us and studied him, and now have brought all of us out of our ship- they havent done anything overtly hostile, but if you put it all together... you get the picture.
No Mo, I dont. Yes, they currently possess a dominant position over us, but they have not yet misled us. They intend to let us go, and when they do, we will return with an incredible understanding of Wardens people.
At this point, Sam interrupted.
Okay, whats said is said. Mo, my brother, I see your point, but this is nothing they wouldnt have learned in time. Dae-
My name am Uk.
The voice had come from the biped closest to Sam, who was holding his comrades mechanical translator. The Hletho around him looked at the creature.
So, youre the one with the puzzle box. Im Wahano Sam.
Uk looked ready to say something else when one of the others gave him a light whack and took back the translation device, bringing an end to any extraneous conversation with 3 words.
Listen to Warden.
The six Hletho stood for a moment, looking around the huge chamber. It had not at all been expected that such a system could even exist- these aliens had truly impressive technology, although there was something inscrutably... wrong with the design. Perhaps it was the blocky angularity, clashing with the fantastic refinement- it looked like what youd get if a Sahlon had tried to apply some superficial changes to an item of Rhoan manufacture- or for a human metaphor, like someone had tried to give a 60 year old tractor spoilers and racing stripes and called it a sportscar.
Nonetheless, the tower was quite fascinating. Hletho arent ones to typically be impressed, but they all held varying levels of appreciation- or envy- of the feat.
Sam and Mo stood beside each other, both relieved to be seeing each other again.
Thats the fellow you were talking about earlier? asked Mo.
Yes. Or one of them, at least.
Hmm.
The creature within the walker finished its broken speech. Daeja, who was taking rather enthusiastically to her role as the main communicator with the aliens, spoke in response.
Hello Warden! I am Lico Daeja- Lico is my Clade and Daeja is my name. I am a Hletho and my home is the land of Hitheth, on the Planet Thaej, around the Star Haedkhad. We can tell you about ourselves, and would like to learn about yourselves as well. We will be your guests until we learn of our location and are able to return to our home... and we do eat. We eat Thotha, Meat, and Plant Matter- I am not sure that you can translate jargon yet, but we have samples on the Hraef.
Daeja made a respectful gesture and backed up, standing side-by-side with the rest of the Hletho.
Im... not entirely sure that was well-advised. Mo noted, quietly.
But theyre so frank and straightforward- like children- I think we ought to respond in kind. Also and they did rescue our vessel.
They havent been straightforward. whispered Mo, We docked with them- why did we dock with them?
That would be me. interjected Sam, It was as if I wanted nothing but to move to them. Its that empathic connection I was talking about earlier.
Okay, so they manipulated us into docking with them, isolated one of us and studied him, and now have brought all of us out of our ship- they havent done anything overtly hostile, but if you put it all together... you get the picture.
No Mo, I dont. Yes, they currently possess a dominant position over us, but they have not yet misled us. They intend to let us go, and when they do, we will return with an incredible understanding of Wardens people.
At this point, Sam interrupted.
Okay, whats said is said. Mo, my brother, I see your point, but this is nothing they wouldnt have learned in time. Dae-
My name am Uk.
The voice had come from the biped closest to Sam, who was holding his comrades mechanical translator. The Hletho around him looked at the creature.
So, youre the one with the puzzle box. Im Wahano Sam.
Uk looked ready to say something else when one of the others gave him a light whack and took back the translation device, bringing an end to any extraneous conversation with 3 words.
Listen to Warden.
Daftpanzer
canonically ambiguous
Galactic Sector I/C - Mar Aih System
Workman Lud was an object of much fascination and alarm. It was fast becoming night at the landing site, but Lud and his blocky craft were still clearly visible, silhouetted against the reflective blue-white glacial background, ambiently lit by reflection from the gas giant Ahrmm.
Emergency Meeting (New Protocol) #1 of The Agreement. Absent-Communications Log Section 32:
'[exclamation], aliens on our sister-moon!'
'The figure is much like our projections. But look how it moves!'
'Necessary chatter only, please.'
'I see it. The Comm's are ceasing up with sharing requests.'
'I think we can understand the curiosity of our fellows in-system.'
'Curiosity, and insecurity... People want to see the nature of the threat.'
'Well quite. Just make sure we have priority. Anyway... Hmm...'
'The nuclear explosives are in place beneath the landing pad.'
'Yes, that, good. Now... Any sign of a response? What's that, the figure is carrying something?'
'Ah.... No transmission in EM, but we have audio from the landing site... The instrument says 'hello'.'
'Hmm...'
'I don't like it.'
'And who are those people there? Can we make sure the landing area is evacuated, as agreed?'
'Ah... Some of the locals didn't get our message'
'Some of us in this meeting didn't get the message! I lost comms for the last kilometre.'
'Welcome back.'
'You talking to me or the aliens? Ahah.'
'Waiting for you all down here. Setting the environment as best I can. Be warned, its a little warm.'
'Hmm... Keep it relevant, please. So... Keep the landing site clear, ten kilometre exclusion, send in an automated drone to continue -'
'We don't have any there...'
'Hmm... Keep the landing site completely clear, ten kilometre exclusion, remote communiation units only, no action until we have something more substantial from them. We've said all we have to say, at least for now. Mobilisation continues as fast as possible. Concur?'
'Concur'
'Agreed.'
'But its so rude to leave the alien standing there. What happened to our graces? A little trouble and fear, and we degenerate to this?'
'Comrade, I had hoped that we had established our naivety as the cause of our current troubles.'
'Exactly, you want to go and meet with it?'
'Cut the irrelevance, please...'
Workman Lud was an object of much fascination and alarm. It was fast becoming night at the landing site, but Lud and his blocky craft were still clearly visible, silhouetted against the reflective blue-white glacial background, ambiently lit by reflection from the gas giant Ahrmm.
Emergency Meeting (New Protocol) #1 of The Agreement. Absent-Communications Log Section 32:
'[exclamation], aliens on our sister-moon!'
'The figure is much like our projections. But look how it moves!'
'Necessary chatter only, please.'
'I see it. The Comm's are ceasing up with sharing requests.'
'I think we can understand the curiosity of our fellows in-system.'
'Curiosity, and insecurity... People want to see the nature of the threat.'
'Well quite. Just make sure we have priority. Anyway... Hmm...'
'The nuclear explosives are in place beneath the landing pad.'
'Yes, that, good. Now... Any sign of a response? What's that, the figure is carrying something?'
'Ah.... No transmission in EM, but we have audio from the landing site... The instrument says 'hello'.'
'Hmm...'
'I don't like it.'
'And who are those people there? Can we make sure the landing area is evacuated, as agreed?'
'Ah... Some of the locals didn't get our message'
'Some of us in this meeting didn't get the message! I lost comms for the last kilometre.'
'Welcome back.'
'You talking to me or the aliens? Ahah.'
'Waiting for you all down here. Setting the environment as best I can. Be warned, its a little warm.'
'Hmm... Keep it relevant, please. So... Keep the landing site clear, ten kilometre exclusion, send in an automated drone to continue -'
'We don't have any there...'
'Hmm... Keep the landing site completely clear, ten kilometre exclusion, remote communiation units only, no action until we have something more substantial from them. We've said all we have to say, at least for now. Mobilisation continues as fast as possible. Concur?'
'Concur'
'Agreed.'
'But its so rude to leave the alien standing there. What happened to our graces? A little trouble and fear, and we degenerate to this?'
'Comrade, I had hoped that we had established our naivety as the cause of our current troubles.'
'Exactly, you want to go and meet with it?'
'Cut the irrelevance, please...'
Bil
Prince of Space
Galactic Sector I/F - Krull System
Ship's Mayor Ool rested in a suspension mesh in front of the large display screen, awaiting the transmissions alongside a number of his top technical advisors and the Mayors of the other ships. They all felt anxious, worried about the nature of these potentially alien creatures. He snacked nervously on kish-kish, a sort of biscuit made out of compressed and dried plants that grow in shallow salt water.
The signal hit abruptly, the city's computer systems processing and organizing the information. The video played, the sound played, the kish-kish hit the floor.
"It's hideous," Ool remarked.
One of his advisers, a biologist, cooed gently as she thought. "Yes," she finally submitted, "It certainly is. I suppose it is what we should have expected. Very alien, indeed. I... I think it only has three legs. Its arms look undeveloped, possibly vestigial. And it's... it's eyes are... just..."
"Horrible?" chimed in the obviously disturbed social adviser.
Ship's Mayor Ool chirped irritably, "Mister Hoo! That's not the right attitude to have here."
"What IS the right attitude? Strange and horrible aliens appear, and we're supposed to be glad? It interrupts my digestion! I wish to climb a tree!" Hoo snapped.
Two common exclamations of distaste amongst the Orindi, which might seem a bit strange when presented to another species; the general meaning is something similar to "It makes me sick!" and "I've got to get out of here!"
"The trees are out in the concourse, then. Go regain your composure," ordered Ool.
---------
Ulok was dreadfully bored, whistling out a harsh and jangling tune, thinking about fierce jungle predators hunting out the primitive world-dwellers. It was morbid, sure, but it also held a value of entertainment in that sort of whimsical, "look how much better we are than them" sort of way. She watched as the heat levels started to spike, the antique power source leaking coolant into one of the lower holds. She switched coolant tanks, then dumped the steaming, should-be-frozen-if-it-were-water mess out into space.
Outside, small ports in the lower portion of the bulky, clunky survey ship opened, a fine mist of particles spraying out in a matter of seconds, dissipating into the void.
A signal bounced off her ship, heavy and steady, streaming along toward the alien craft. It contained an entire dictionary of the Orindi Common Language, encoded into binary. Apparently, the committee had spent the past few hours toiling away, to end up hoping that maybe the aliens could figure something out with this.
Ulok closed the vents as she watched the heat levels slowly drop.
Galactic Sector I/C - Mar Aih System
"We do not mind the atomic device below," the box droned as Lud looked on with a vague smile hidden under his helmet, "We are friendly. It was a misunderstanding and error from another of us that your people were damaged. We have returned them, and also we are now ready for the making of friends. We have a large substance of help for you to enjoy, to make your people better."
Galactic Sector J/D - Planet Lolan
Uk pouted and shuffled in place.
Warden crept closer to the six aliens, the hulking machine blotting out some of the artificial light streaming down from the false sun in the ceiling. "You will bring us your food, and we will present you with other things that are like it. Do you sleep? Do you need to be cleansed?"
Uk took the puzzle box from one of his companions and began to play with it.
Ship's Mayor Ool rested in a suspension mesh in front of the large display screen, awaiting the transmissions alongside a number of his top technical advisors and the Mayors of the other ships. They all felt anxious, worried about the nature of these potentially alien creatures. He snacked nervously on kish-kish, a sort of biscuit made out of compressed and dried plants that grow in shallow salt water.
The signal hit abruptly, the city's computer systems processing and organizing the information. The video played, the sound played, the kish-kish hit the floor.
"It's hideous," Ool remarked.
One of his advisers, a biologist, cooed gently as she thought. "Yes," she finally submitted, "It certainly is. I suppose it is what we should have expected. Very alien, indeed. I... I think it only has three legs. Its arms look undeveloped, possibly vestigial. And it's... it's eyes are... just..."
"Horrible?" chimed in the obviously disturbed social adviser.
Ship's Mayor Ool chirped irritably, "Mister Hoo! That's not the right attitude to have here."
"What IS the right attitude? Strange and horrible aliens appear, and we're supposed to be glad? It interrupts my digestion! I wish to climb a tree!" Hoo snapped.
Two common exclamations of distaste amongst the Orindi, which might seem a bit strange when presented to another species; the general meaning is something similar to "It makes me sick!" and "I've got to get out of here!"
"The trees are out in the concourse, then. Go regain your composure," ordered Ool.
---------
Ulok was dreadfully bored, whistling out a harsh and jangling tune, thinking about fierce jungle predators hunting out the primitive world-dwellers. It was morbid, sure, but it also held a value of entertainment in that sort of whimsical, "look how much better we are than them" sort of way. She watched as the heat levels started to spike, the antique power source leaking coolant into one of the lower holds. She switched coolant tanks, then dumped the steaming, should-be-frozen-if-it-were-water mess out into space.
Outside, small ports in the lower portion of the bulky, clunky survey ship opened, a fine mist of particles spraying out in a matter of seconds, dissipating into the void.
A signal bounced off her ship, heavy and steady, streaming along toward the alien craft. It contained an entire dictionary of the Orindi Common Language, encoded into binary. Apparently, the committee had spent the past few hours toiling away, to end up hoping that maybe the aliens could figure something out with this.
Ulok closed the vents as she watched the heat levels slowly drop.
Galactic Sector I/C - Mar Aih System
"We do not mind the atomic device below," the box droned as Lud looked on with a vague smile hidden under his helmet, "We are friendly. It was a misunderstanding and error from another of us that your people were damaged. We have returned them, and also we are now ready for the making of friends. We have a large substance of help for you to enjoy, to make your people better."
Galactic Sector J/D - Planet Lolan
Uk pouted and shuffled in place.
Warden crept closer to the six aliens, the hulking machine blotting out some of the artificial light streaming down from the false sun in the ceiling. "You will bring us your food, and we will present you with other things that are like it. Do you sleep? Do you need to be cleansed?"
Uk took the puzzle box from one of his companions and began to play with it.
Bil
Prince of Space
Got the last of them stories up. Not much to them, unfortunately. I'd add more detail, but I'm bad at making it not seem forced, so I left it out for the most part unless it was necessary. I've been noticing Iggy's subtle hints at my lack of descriptions 
Daftpanzer
canonically ambiguous
@Thlayli all the cool NESers are doing it
@Bil I feel for you doing all this diplo in story mode. I don't mind a simple response to this, but I'm afraid I couldn't help going overboard again
Galactic Sector I/C - Mar Aih System
Deep under the surface of Hmmaiaa, the members of the Emergency Meeting (New Protocol) #1 were finally gathering in person. A meeting room had been hastily set up in what had been rest / relaxation / hibernation quarters for a mining team, not used for centuries. A large spider-walker vehicle was frozen in a rather awkward posture and making metallic clicking noises as its overworked limb-actuators cooled down - not that the caves were particularly cold at this depth. Its headlights gazed into the still emptiness, illuminating several Satellians as they fiddled with various small electronics. There was a seamless blend between smooth-cut and natural surfaces, aided by the lack of adequate lighting. Old equipment was encrusted with mineral deposits, as if partly swallowed by the stone walls. Remarkably, some was still operational. A fibre-optic connection to the Great Undercity still worked, rendering futile the vast cables that had been laboriously reeled down here. Conversation continued as they fiddled.
'This warrants a response' said the representative of Arrumue Swamplands. Although he was one of those speaking for the simple surface-dwelling farming kinships, he seemed to have a sharper sense of the situation than his more technically-minded cousins.
'I agree' the Arbitrary Director replied. 'Though, I think we all agree, they are still trying to deceive us.'
'How did they know about the nuclear devices?' asked the representative of the Kurun fault-mountains. Nothing underhand, indeed. 'This has great implications for our defence plan.'
'Yes it does.' The Arbitrary Director was holding an old telephone receiver of some kind and studying it intently, a little mental exercise to restore focus. 'We must hope it is short-range detection gear in their landing craft.' What she really meant, a feeling shared by most of her companions, was that it was too horrible to think about. 'Unless anyone objects, I will advise that we continue as planned. Now... Let's formulate a response.'
Almost an hour later, on the frozen surface of Marraa, a remote-communication pod began rumbling/warbling The Agreement's latest formal response in the general direction of workman Lud. The volume was perhaps a little too loud to be comfortable, even for ears cushioned behind a solid helmet. A light dusting of snow was falling, seemingly from nowhere, as the giant planet Ahrrm still occupied most of the night's sky, now high enough to cause the surrounding ice-hills to serenely glow and sparkle in the reflected light. Clusters of small spider-like sweeper-drones emerged from the edges of the pad and began trying to sweep it clear with their paddle-like front limbs; they stopped, confused, when they neared the alien craft which was not emitting any of the usual Identification/Purpose signals.
'As you see, we have prepared our home ground to resist violation. We desire friendship, however the manner of your arrival, and the size of your fleet, alarms us. As a sign of goodwill, we ask you to withdraw some of your ships, or at least explain their exact purpose for being here. What is the nature of the help you offer?'
-
Durmu Nurl, a young female snow-mountain vacationer, found herself alone on the ice, staring at the alien craft landed on the pad below. The alien itself was not visible from this angle. She had received the message to keep clear, but was compelled to investigate, even under threat of kudos-expurgation, or indeed nuclear disintegration. There was something very wrong with The Agreement's approach here, she thought to herself.
She'd heard the news and the rumours. But she had also dreamed of aliens as a child; the chance to meet them in person - real, unknown aliens, first contact - it was too much to resist. She had come here for a break from psycho-emotional therapist duty; She'd toured the moons with her relatives when she was very young, but couldn't remember much. After reaching the age of sixty she decided it was time to see more of the local universe. Just as well, she thought to herself, as our little civilization might be ending any day now.
She suspected several other rebellious Satellians were lurking in the distance. The idea that she was the boldest of them gave her a strange sense of satisfaction.
She circled the edge of the pad, then stopped. The alien! She was suddenly looking right at it, barely 10 metres away. It was still holding what looked like a box in one of its... 'arms'? With that inscrutable helmet and body posture, she had no idea where it was actually looking.
She pushed herself up on all six limbs as high as she could, then with her limbs fixed she swayed her body from side to side. It was a slightly formal, slightly casual, definitely friendly way of attracting attention.
'Greet you, friend' she said/shouted...
@Bil I feel for you doing all this diplo in story mode. I don't mind a simple response to this, but I'm afraid I couldn't help going overboard again
Galactic Sector I/C - Mar Aih System
Deep under the surface of Hmmaiaa, the members of the Emergency Meeting (New Protocol) #1 were finally gathering in person. A meeting room had been hastily set up in what had been rest / relaxation / hibernation quarters for a mining team, not used for centuries. A large spider-walker vehicle was frozen in a rather awkward posture and making metallic clicking noises as its overworked limb-actuators cooled down - not that the caves were particularly cold at this depth. Its headlights gazed into the still emptiness, illuminating several Satellians as they fiddled with various small electronics. There was a seamless blend between smooth-cut and natural surfaces, aided by the lack of adequate lighting. Old equipment was encrusted with mineral deposits, as if partly swallowed by the stone walls. Remarkably, some was still operational. A fibre-optic connection to the Great Undercity still worked, rendering futile the vast cables that had been laboriously reeled down here. Conversation continued as they fiddled.
'This warrants a response' said the representative of Arrumue Swamplands. Although he was one of those speaking for the simple surface-dwelling farming kinships, he seemed to have a sharper sense of the situation than his more technically-minded cousins.
'I agree' the Arbitrary Director replied. 'Though, I think we all agree, they are still trying to deceive us.'
'How did they know about the nuclear devices?' asked the representative of the Kurun fault-mountains. Nothing underhand, indeed. 'This has great implications for our defence plan.'
'Yes it does.' The Arbitrary Director was holding an old telephone receiver of some kind and studying it intently, a little mental exercise to restore focus. 'We must hope it is short-range detection gear in their landing craft.' What she really meant, a feeling shared by most of her companions, was that it was too horrible to think about. 'Unless anyone objects, I will advise that we continue as planned. Now... Let's formulate a response.'
Almost an hour later, on the frozen surface of Marraa, a remote-communication pod began rumbling/warbling The Agreement's latest formal response in the general direction of workman Lud. The volume was perhaps a little too loud to be comfortable, even for ears cushioned behind a solid helmet. A light dusting of snow was falling, seemingly from nowhere, as the giant planet Ahrrm still occupied most of the night's sky, now high enough to cause the surrounding ice-hills to serenely glow and sparkle in the reflected light. Clusters of small spider-like sweeper-drones emerged from the edges of the pad and began trying to sweep it clear with their paddle-like front limbs; they stopped, confused, when they neared the alien craft which was not emitting any of the usual Identification/Purpose signals.
'As you see, we have prepared our home ground to resist violation. We desire friendship, however the manner of your arrival, and the size of your fleet, alarms us. As a sign of goodwill, we ask you to withdraw some of your ships, or at least explain their exact purpose for being here. What is the nature of the help you offer?'
-
Durmu Nurl, a young female snow-mountain vacationer, found herself alone on the ice, staring at the alien craft landed on the pad below. The alien itself was not visible from this angle. She had received the message to keep clear, but was compelled to investigate, even under threat of kudos-expurgation, or indeed nuclear disintegration. There was something very wrong with The Agreement's approach here, she thought to herself.
She'd heard the news and the rumours. But she had also dreamed of aliens as a child; the chance to meet them in person - real, unknown aliens, first contact - it was too much to resist. She had come here for a break from psycho-emotional therapist duty; She'd toured the moons with her relatives when she was very young, but couldn't remember much. After reaching the age of sixty she decided it was time to see more of the local universe. Just as well, she thought to herself, as our little civilization might be ending any day now.
She suspected several other rebellious Satellians were lurking in the distance. The idea that she was the boldest of them gave her a strange sense of satisfaction.
She circled the edge of the pad, then stopped. The alien! She was suddenly looking right at it, barely 10 metres away. It was still holding what looked like a box in one of its... 'arms'? With that inscrutable helmet and body posture, she had no idea where it was actually looking.
She pushed herself up on all six limbs as high as she could, then with her limbs fixed she swayed her body from side to side. It was a slightly formal, slightly casual, definitely friendly way of attracting attention.
'Greet you, friend' she said/shouted...
Approaching the City Ship
Captain Baheb Thoh watched with interest as the vessel on visual ejected some sort of viscous liquid, quickly boiling away in the vacuum of space.
“Do you think that was intended to be threatening Captain?”
“If it is, then we’re dealing with something very, very strange. I’d guess it’s just some sort of discharge.”
“Shall we proceed then?”
“Yes. Nefis An, activate the Trident Apparatus for a short range compaction event to the inhabited planet.”
“Affirmative sir.”
A humming noise filled the craft. Thoh emptied his mind, for a moment, being especially careful not to prepare for the physical sensations of the event- that would only amplify them. Compaction events have an unfortunate side effect of a rather vivid sensation of being physically warped, stretched and crushed simultaneously. There are supposedly certain states of mind that can allow Hletho to resist the sensation- although much of this was still crude and unscientific.
With a relieved sigh, Thoh felt the event dissipate. Visual sensors were quickly back online, projecting space around them into the command room. Before them was a dark green world, largely devoid of any of the artificial lights visible over Thaej.
“Dispatch a Zir, and prepare to drop an atmospheric probe. Do we have any spectrometric analyses of the planet’s atmosphere yet?”
“It’s dense, seems to be rich in carbion dioxide and water vapour- this place is south Sahlo in a rainstorm.”
“Good, our probe should do fine. Deploy it.”
“Done sir.”
From a small storage bay, a tiny drone was released. It spun around and hurried over to another area on the hull, where it withdrew a relay beacon, then began to carry it away from the ship. It was these beacons which maintained the communication lines throughout all known Hletho space.
Elsewhere, several probes launched, all on vectors to the various planets of the Krull system. They were complex, self-sustaining observations systems, designed to float through the atmospheres- or lacks thereof- of alien worlds, making thorough recordings of virtually everything of interest on these worlds. Thoh watched one make a gentle, spiralling descent towards the large, green planet below him.
“Captain, we’ve got something interesting coming into visual.”
“Yes?”
“I believe it’s one of those objects we saw in the previous transmission- I’m magnifying it now.”
On the screens, a large, lumpy form came into view in a middle orbit around the planet. It was roughly cubic, but had the ramshackle appearance of something which had been expanded upon many times, having long-since lost any sense of a clear design.
“Interesting. Approach it and send it the transmission we sent to the previous vessel.”
“Yes sir.”
Captain Baheb Thoh watched with interest as the vessel on visual ejected some sort of viscous liquid, quickly boiling away in the vacuum of space.
“Do you think that was intended to be threatening Captain?”
“If it is, then we’re dealing with something very, very strange. I’d guess it’s just some sort of discharge.”
“Shall we proceed then?”
“Yes. Nefis An, activate the Trident Apparatus for a short range compaction event to the inhabited planet.”
“Affirmative sir.”
A humming noise filled the craft. Thoh emptied his mind, for a moment, being especially careful not to prepare for the physical sensations of the event- that would only amplify them. Compaction events have an unfortunate side effect of a rather vivid sensation of being physically warped, stretched and crushed simultaneously. There are supposedly certain states of mind that can allow Hletho to resist the sensation- although much of this was still crude and unscientific.
With a relieved sigh, Thoh felt the event dissipate. Visual sensors were quickly back online, projecting space around them into the command room. Before them was a dark green world, largely devoid of any of the artificial lights visible over Thaej.
“Dispatch a Zir, and prepare to drop an atmospheric probe. Do we have any spectrometric analyses of the planet’s atmosphere yet?”
“It’s dense, seems to be rich in carbion dioxide and water vapour- this place is south Sahlo in a rainstorm.”
“Good, our probe should do fine. Deploy it.”
“Done sir.”
From a small storage bay, a tiny drone was released. It spun around and hurried over to another area on the hull, where it withdrew a relay beacon, then began to carry it away from the ship. It was these beacons which maintained the communication lines throughout all known Hletho space.
Elsewhere, several probes launched, all on vectors to the various planets of the Krull system. They were complex, self-sustaining observations systems, designed to float through the atmospheres- or lacks thereof- of alien worlds, making thorough recordings of virtually everything of interest on these worlds. Thoh watched one make a gentle, spiralling descent towards the large, green planet below him.
“Captain, we’ve got something interesting coming into visual.”
“Yes?”
“I believe it’s one of those objects we saw in the previous transmission- I’m magnifying it now.”
On the screens, a large, lumpy form came into view in a middle orbit around the planet. It was roughly cubic, but had the ramshackle appearance of something which had been expanded upon many times, having long-since lost any sense of a clear design.
“Interesting. Approach it and send it the transmission we sent to the previous vessel.”
“Yes sir.”
The Warden’s Curiosity
Nahla, Jahn and Mo were returning with their alien escorts- who had by now been identified by the translator as ‘Culud’. Several metal crates were noisily dragging behind them- they were not particularly well-designed for transport outside of the gravity-lacking interior of the Rhetho. Each box contained some Hletho rations, recently rehydrated back on the ship.
Sam and Daeja were alternating their discussion between Warden, hovering above them, and the Culud who were crowded around them.
“So Warden’s kind live in the oceans, and you Culud live on land? Fascinating, there are no intelligent creatures in the seas of Thaej- of course, we had thought that the same was true for the entirety of the universe until a short while ago. Ah, here’s the rest of our crew with the food.”
Warden’s massive, glassy eyes stared down from the walking machine, unmoving as his voice began.
“You have brought us food of yours. To repeat, your answers to the questions previously asked are that sleep is you have good. You are sleeping. Cleansing is done as sociality. This is correct, confirm.”
Sam and Daeja looked at each other for a moment, before Sam took the liberty of responding.
“We are not sleeping, we are awake, but the other statements are true.”
Warden’s machine grumbled slightly, before it spoke again, in an alien language.
The Culud, apparently acting on some sort of order, continued to drag the crates onwards, bringing them out of sight into some side room.
“Now show cleanse.”
“I’m sorry?”
“No apology need. Show cleanse.”
The two demonstrating Hletho paused for a few moments- it was an odd request, something that would not typically be done on an outsider’s whim. Typically, Hletho are fairly self-managing in terms of hygiene- sprays of water wash off the vast majority of everyday grime, and social or private grooming does the rest. Hletho do not typically wear clothing unless it is warranted by the temperatures of their environment, and thus none was needed in the interior of the Rhetho. This, coupled with the meticulously clean interior of the vessel, made regular hygiene largely a non-issue for the vessel’s inhabitants.
However, teaching an alien species something about one’s culture can apparently necessitate the demonstration of traditional behaviours. Sam ran his arms over Daeja’s soft, downy body, picked at the imagined parasites that might have been present had the two been from an early Hithethan society hundreds of thousands of years prior. The two smoothed out the downy fur on each others’ bodies, until there was nary a hair out of place. This done, the two individually ran their three tongues around their mouths, as is typically done to clear out excess food caught in their jaws after eating.
“Good. Show sleep?”
Nahla, Jahn and Mo were returning with their alien escorts- who had by now been identified by the translator as ‘Culud’. Several metal crates were noisily dragging behind them- they were not particularly well-designed for transport outside of the gravity-lacking interior of the Rhetho. Each box contained some Hletho rations, recently rehydrated back on the ship.
Sam and Daeja were alternating their discussion between Warden, hovering above them, and the Culud who were crowded around them.
“So Warden’s kind live in the oceans, and you Culud live on land? Fascinating, there are no intelligent creatures in the seas of Thaej- of course, we had thought that the same was true for the entirety of the universe until a short while ago. Ah, here’s the rest of our crew with the food.”
Warden’s massive, glassy eyes stared down from the walking machine, unmoving as his voice began.
“You have brought us food of yours. To repeat, your answers to the questions previously asked are that sleep is you have good. You are sleeping. Cleansing is done as sociality. This is correct, confirm.”
Sam and Daeja looked at each other for a moment, before Sam took the liberty of responding.
“We are not sleeping, we are awake, but the other statements are true.”
Warden’s machine grumbled slightly, before it spoke again, in an alien language.
The Culud, apparently acting on some sort of order, continued to drag the crates onwards, bringing them out of sight into some side room.
“Now show cleanse.”
“I’m sorry?”
“No apology need. Show cleanse.”
The two demonstrating Hletho paused for a few moments- it was an odd request, something that would not typically be done on an outsider’s whim. Typically, Hletho are fairly self-managing in terms of hygiene- sprays of water wash off the vast majority of everyday grime, and social or private grooming does the rest. Hletho do not typically wear clothing unless it is warranted by the temperatures of their environment, and thus none was needed in the interior of the Rhetho. This, coupled with the meticulously clean interior of the vessel, made regular hygiene largely a non-issue for the vessel’s inhabitants.
However, teaching an alien species something about one’s culture can apparently necessitate the demonstration of traditional behaviours. Sam ran his arms over Daeja’s soft, downy body, picked at the imagined parasites that might have been present had the two been from an early Hithethan society hundreds of thousands of years prior. The two smoothed out the downy fur on each others’ bodies, until there was nary a hair out of place. This done, the two individually ran their three tongues around their mouths, as is typically done to clear out excess food caught in their jaws after eating.
“Good. Show sleep?”
North King
blech
- Joined
- Jan 2, 2004
- Messages
- 18,165
I'd love to join this. I'm very confused as to exactly what is going on and who is who, but that will simply make the roleplaying all the better. 
I'll decide on a place and tell you about the race tomorrow.
I'll decide on a place and tell you about the race tomorrow.The Haefar Community
Vorsa Bae frolicked around fringes of the community happily, chasing after a small, low-flying creature. She was very young, only around 1 year old, and was one of the newer arrivals at the colony on Haefar. The little creature landed on a tall, treelike object. Bae stopped at the base, then stuck her small claws in and began to scramble his way up. Being immature, her legs had not yet stiffened to the point where such actions were impossible. The animal was bright, metallic green, with several colourful tendrils hanging like satin tassels behind it, and lacy wings held out at the ready. Bae reached upwards, trying to reach the little jewel before it flew away. She lolled her tongues in annoyance, and began to climb down when she considered, for a moment, the view.
Haefar was a strange planet. Its plants were green, unlike the familiar orange and purple of Thaej. The planet’s surface was wild and ridged- the community itself was in the sheltered bottom of a steep-cliffed valley. Despite this broken surface, however, the planet was flooding with life- and development as well.
Further down the valley, and visible from Bae’s vantage point, a mining facility existed, a small facility atop a deep, labyrinthine series of exploratory tunnels. Though she had no idea of it, there was some great excitement at the economic potential of the metals and minerals of this regularly-disturbed crust. Back on Thaej, which was fairly inactive tectonically, such resources were somewhat hard to come by- it was expected that a great deal more mining operations would soon be taking place here.
Above, the twin planet of Joliat dominated the sky. It was half-hidden by clouds, a series of seas perpetually staring down at Haefar- the two planets were tidally locked, and from the location of the colony, Joliat’s eyes never blinked. Such a spectacle was very strange for someone Thaej-born, but Bae had only been a few days old when much of her clade left the Hlethan homeworld.
The young Hleko hopped down off the tree, laughing with a light ‘tikatik’ as the tree shifted from the lost weight, making a deep, groaning noise. With a few quick twirls and bounds, she landed at the feet of her birthmother Faen, who had been watching her daughter’s activities intently. Bae nuzzled up close to her mother, who was already cradling the resting body of Bae’s twin sister, Bren.
As a brief aside, it should be remembered that the terms for Hletho of each gender are Hlethen (male), Hleko (defender female) and Hlega (birthgiver female).
Faen held her children close to her, enjoying the sensations of the soft earth below her, the contented empathic signals wafting off of them, their familiar scent, the warm physical contact of their small bodies- but they were growing so quickly! In another year or two, they would be fully grown.
“Bae, do you know the jewelbugs fly?”
“By creating low pressure vortices above their wings through flapping motion- you told me that yesterday, Mom.”
“Good to see your brain’s working well.”
“Of course it is.”
Bae suddenly spotted something else colourful, and immediately kicked away from her mother, bounding off in pursuit. Faen smiled, and cradled Bren’s sleeping body. Interesting how two siblings, genetically identical, could be so different- Bae could hardly ever be stopped or silenced, but most of the community would be surprised to know that Bren even talked, so quiet was the child. Faen had heard of sibling dichotomies like this before, but had never really expected to see it in her own progeny. In some cultures, it was viewed as a bad omen, but Faen was of a tradition that viewed such uniqueness as a lucky gift.
Bren’s eyes lit up for a moment, tracing the movement of a landing shuttle for a few moments, before darkening again as it slipped out of view. Her sister was always interested in life, activity, earthy things. Bren was disinterested by such mundane things- Bren’s fascination was in what lay above.
Vorsa Bae frolicked around fringes of the community happily, chasing after a small, low-flying creature. She was very young, only around 1 year old, and was one of the newer arrivals at the colony on Haefar. The little creature landed on a tall, treelike object. Bae stopped at the base, then stuck her small claws in and began to scramble his way up. Being immature, her legs had not yet stiffened to the point where such actions were impossible. The animal was bright, metallic green, with several colourful tendrils hanging like satin tassels behind it, and lacy wings held out at the ready. Bae reached upwards, trying to reach the little jewel before it flew away. She lolled her tongues in annoyance, and began to climb down when she considered, for a moment, the view.
Haefar was a strange planet. Its plants were green, unlike the familiar orange and purple of Thaej. The planet’s surface was wild and ridged- the community itself was in the sheltered bottom of a steep-cliffed valley. Despite this broken surface, however, the planet was flooding with life- and development as well.
Further down the valley, and visible from Bae’s vantage point, a mining facility existed, a small facility atop a deep, labyrinthine series of exploratory tunnels. Though she had no idea of it, there was some great excitement at the economic potential of the metals and minerals of this regularly-disturbed crust. Back on Thaej, which was fairly inactive tectonically, such resources were somewhat hard to come by- it was expected that a great deal more mining operations would soon be taking place here.
Above, the twin planet of Joliat dominated the sky. It was half-hidden by clouds, a series of seas perpetually staring down at Haefar- the two planets were tidally locked, and from the location of the colony, Joliat’s eyes never blinked. Such a spectacle was very strange for someone Thaej-born, but Bae had only been a few days old when much of her clade left the Hlethan homeworld.
The young Hleko hopped down off the tree, laughing with a light ‘tikatik’ as the tree shifted from the lost weight, making a deep, groaning noise. With a few quick twirls and bounds, she landed at the feet of her birthmother Faen, who had been watching her daughter’s activities intently. Bae nuzzled up close to her mother, who was already cradling the resting body of Bae’s twin sister, Bren.
As a brief aside, it should be remembered that the terms for Hletho of each gender are Hlethen (male), Hleko (defender female) and Hlega (birthgiver female).
Faen held her children close to her, enjoying the sensations of the soft earth below her, the contented empathic signals wafting off of them, their familiar scent, the warm physical contact of their small bodies- but they were growing so quickly! In another year or two, they would be fully grown.
“Bae, do you know the jewelbugs fly?”
“By creating low pressure vortices above their wings through flapping motion- you told me that yesterday, Mom.”
“Good to see your brain’s working well.”
“Of course it is.”
Bae suddenly spotted something else colourful, and immediately kicked away from her mother, bounding off in pursuit. Faen smiled, and cradled Bren’s sleeping body. Interesting how two siblings, genetically identical, could be so different- Bae could hardly ever be stopped or silenced, but most of the community would be surprised to know that Bren even talked, so quiet was the child. Faen had heard of sibling dichotomies like this before, but had never really expected to see it in her own progeny. In some cultures, it was viewed as a bad omen, but Faen was of a tradition that viewed such uniqueness as a lucky gift.
Bren’s eyes lit up for a moment, tracing the movement of a landing shuttle for a few moments, before darkening again as it slipped out of view. Her sister was always interested in life, activity, earthy things. Bren was disinterested by such mundane things- Bren’s fascination was in what lay above.
Bil
Prince of Space
Stories are still great, guys! I'll be getting some responses up soon, I hope. Remember to get some sort of orders in by Sunday night, so I can get started on the update Monday.
@North King: Well, if you have any questions, PM me (or try your luck with some kind of IM). We'd be happy to have you!
I'll be getting some responses up soon, I hope. Remember to get some sort of orders in by Sunday night, so I can get started on the update Monday.@North King: Well, if you have any questions, PM me (or try your luck with some kind of IM). We'd be happy to have you!
Bil
Prince of Space
Galactic Sector I/C - Mar Aih System
Workman Lud made a pleased expression behind his helmet, his eyes studying the Satellian being very carefully. They were such strange creatures, like the Ullu his people ranched for milk and meat back home. He had only glanced over the autopsy reports, not really fancying images of anatomy, but from what he could guess, they were in fact nothing like any creature on Lolan. Briefly, he wondered what one might taste like, though he quickly steered this thought away as a beeping attracted his attention. He looked at his wrist, the dull yellow text glaring at him through the bitter air. "COMPLETE SECONDARY OBJECTIVE."
He huffed out a breath of air, then turned and entered the pod. As the Satellian outside watched the craft hesitantly, he and his fellow Culud carried out a box, roughly a meter across each side, the top face hinged on one side, sealed for the time being. Across this lid, very basic Satellian script displayed a single word.
Lud turned to face Durmu Nurl as his fellows returned to the ship. He placed his hands in the air at about the height of his head, then dipped his knees once, then twice. To her, it probably meant nothing, and to him it was a simple gesture of greeting or departure. He entered his craft, the hatch closing and sealing with a gentle hiss that was lost in the thin air around it.
With a mild thrum, the pod was up and off, heading back to the fleet. Upon returning to the transport bay, the fleet entered another array of wormholes, off again into the void without so much as a word. Well, except one...
Durmu Nurl approached the box carefully, curious as to its purpose. The word was large, obviously written from some kind of stencil or automated printing, and not quite the script she would have chosen for the word. Obviously, they did not have a true grasp of the language, but it was functional and simple enough to be read.
"COMMUNICATE"
Galactic Sector J/D - Planet Lolan
After several days of investigation, Warden Tuthuliel had learned a fair amount about the Hlethan guests, though she could tell they were getting anxious. She hadn't let them back to their ship since arrival, and it was becoming annoying to her that they kept asking, sometimes with irritation, to return home. She kept saying that it wasn't the right time, and that they weren't done here, but one in particular--called Wahano Mo--kept insisting. Finally, fed up and feeling that little more could be learned from these few, she decided to let them go.
While escorting them back to the Rhetho, Uk held up the communicator box and pressed a series of complicated commands. "Did you have an enjoyed time?" it asked for him, "Maybe you were annoyed for us, but Warden is a curious about you. I hope the food was good for you to eat, but it was probably not. You are getting to be going home next, and it will be quick I hope. You should be ready for this voyage now this time, and maybe it will not make you feel so bad to go through the hole-in-space. It is not as easy as you might be thinking that it is at first, and this you already know. I hope we can be friends forever."
Had Uk left any time for the box to pause, perhaps Sam could have responded, but it wasn't the Culud way to stop talking until all thoughts were expressed. Usually, between two Culud, it wouldn't have been such a one-sided exchange, as most conversations were short and to the point. Uk was often an exception to this, and when it came to the aliens, he felt he had even more to say than usual. They were at the airlock, Uk ushering the others into the small chamber as the box finished its monologue.
Sam was patient with the small fellow, almost amused by his manner at this point. "Thank you, Uk. I hope we can be friends, too."
"Yes," the box said, and Uk showed his pointy teeth, the image being somewhat disconcerting, like a dangerous little animal, though by now Sam knew it was merely an expression of happiness for a Culud. "Go in now and we will leave for your housing sphere."
Sam did as he was told, the airlock cycled, and the Hlethan crew finally found themselves in a familiar setting. Though, after nearly twenty local days in an alien environment, the ship seemed strange as well. Nothing was changed; moved around, poked through, studied, but not changed. Sam had almost forgotten what the small craft's interior looked like, but it was quickly becoming his second home again. Being rid of those suits was perhaps the best feeling in weeks.
"BE READY" sounded through the ship's chambers and passages. They had seconds to obey, before the stretch of time hit them and they found themselves with nothing but the transit event...
Galactic Sector I/F - Planet Yellor
Murr saw a glinting star cross the night's sky, traveling on strange whims. It was not a star, for stars were still save for the change of seasons. He would not have noticed this event had he been home, but the high vantage of the great mountain made the object terribly obvious to him. Suddenly, a bright flash and a loud crack of thunder traversed the heavens, and the object was gone. He thought he was only collecting high-growing roots for medicine, but what transpired was far more sinister than that. War was coming, he was sure of it. It was the only meaning that omen could have.
-------------
Mayor Ool grew panicked as the alien ship appeared nearby, and more so when a secondary object was issued out from it. He shouted orders into his communicator and the startled crewmembers confirmed. The object should be destroyed.
A small laser device fired, invisible in the vacuum. The Zir was gone in an instant, its propellant fuel overheating, the expansion of material tearing the craft to bits.
Ool then proceeded to consult his advisers on the matter, finally coming to the conclusion that, save for attacking the vessel, the only option was to move the city into the path of the alien craft as a warning. Slowly, the massive dome-topped vessel turned and positioned itself, the bland and utilitarian bottom facing the Hlethan craft, moving into the orbital path it occupied.
Weaponry systems activated, intentionally running "bright" to, hopefully, appear as active on some kind of sensory systems the aliens might have. They needed to look serious and intimidating, if they were going to get them to leave the planet alone.
Workman Lud made a pleased expression behind his helmet, his eyes studying the Satellian being very carefully. They were such strange creatures, like the Ullu his people ranched for milk and meat back home. He had only glanced over the autopsy reports, not really fancying images of anatomy, but from what he could guess, they were in fact nothing like any creature on Lolan. Briefly, he wondered what one might taste like, though he quickly steered this thought away as a beeping attracted his attention. He looked at his wrist, the dull yellow text glaring at him through the bitter air. "COMPLETE SECONDARY OBJECTIVE."
He huffed out a breath of air, then turned and entered the pod. As the Satellian outside watched the craft hesitantly, he and his fellow Culud carried out a box, roughly a meter across each side, the top face hinged on one side, sealed for the time being. Across this lid, very basic Satellian script displayed a single word.
Lud turned to face Durmu Nurl as his fellows returned to the ship. He placed his hands in the air at about the height of his head, then dipped his knees once, then twice. To her, it probably meant nothing, and to him it was a simple gesture of greeting or departure. He entered his craft, the hatch closing and sealing with a gentle hiss that was lost in the thin air around it.
With a mild thrum, the pod was up and off, heading back to the fleet. Upon returning to the transport bay, the fleet entered another array of wormholes, off again into the void without so much as a word. Well, except one...
Durmu Nurl approached the box carefully, curious as to its purpose. The word was large, obviously written from some kind of stencil or automated printing, and not quite the script she would have chosen for the word. Obviously, they did not have a true grasp of the language, but it was functional and simple enough to be read.
"COMMUNICATE"
Galactic Sector J/D - Planet Lolan
After several days of investigation, Warden Tuthuliel had learned a fair amount about the Hlethan guests, though she could tell they were getting anxious. She hadn't let them back to their ship since arrival, and it was becoming annoying to her that they kept asking, sometimes with irritation, to return home. She kept saying that it wasn't the right time, and that they weren't done here, but one in particular--called Wahano Mo--kept insisting. Finally, fed up and feeling that little more could be learned from these few, she decided to let them go.
While escorting them back to the Rhetho, Uk held up the communicator box and pressed a series of complicated commands. "Did you have an enjoyed time?" it asked for him, "Maybe you were annoyed for us, but Warden is a curious about you. I hope the food was good for you to eat, but it was probably not. You are getting to be going home next, and it will be quick I hope. You should be ready for this voyage now this time, and maybe it will not make you feel so bad to go through the hole-in-space. It is not as easy as you might be thinking that it is at first, and this you already know. I hope we can be friends forever."
Had Uk left any time for the box to pause, perhaps Sam could have responded, but it wasn't the Culud way to stop talking until all thoughts were expressed. Usually, between two Culud, it wouldn't have been such a one-sided exchange, as most conversations were short and to the point. Uk was often an exception to this, and when it came to the aliens, he felt he had even more to say than usual. They were at the airlock, Uk ushering the others into the small chamber as the box finished its monologue.
Sam was patient with the small fellow, almost amused by his manner at this point. "Thank you, Uk. I hope we can be friends, too."
"Yes," the box said, and Uk showed his pointy teeth, the image being somewhat disconcerting, like a dangerous little animal, though by now Sam knew it was merely an expression of happiness for a Culud. "Go in now and we will leave for your housing sphere."
Sam did as he was told, the airlock cycled, and the Hlethan crew finally found themselves in a familiar setting. Though, after nearly twenty local days in an alien environment, the ship seemed strange as well. Nothing was changed; moved around, poked through, studied, but not changed. Sam had almost forgotten what the small craft's interior looked like, but it was quickly becoming his second home again. Being rid of those suits was perhaps the best feeling in weeks.
"BE READY" sounded through the ship's chambers and passages. They had seconds to obey, before the stretch of time hit them and they found themselves with nothing but the transit event...
Galactic Sector I/F - Planet Yellor
Murr saw a glinting star cross the night's sky, traveling on strange whims. It was not a star, for stars were still save for the change of seasons. He would not have noticed this event had he been home, but the high vantage of the great mountain made the object terribly obvious to him. Suddenly, a bright flash and a loud crack of thunder traversed the heavens, and the object was gone. He thought he was only collecting high-growing roots for medicine, but what transpired was far more sinister than that. War was coming, he was sure of it. It was the only meaning that omen could have.
-------------
Mayor Ool grew panicked as the alien ship appeared nearby, and more so when a secondary object was issued out from it. He shouted orders into his communicator and the startled crewmembers confirmed. The object should be destroyed.
A small laser device fired, invisible in the vacuum. The Zir was gone in an instant, its propellant fuel overheating, the expansion of material tearing the craft to bits.
Ool then proceeded to consult his advisers on the matter, finally coming to the conclusion that, save for attacking the vessel, the only option was to move the city into the path of the alien craft as a warning. Slowly, the massive dome-topped vessel turned and positioned itself, the bland and utilitarian bottom facing the Hlethan craft, moving into the orbital path it occupied.
Weaponry systems activated, intentionally running "bright" to, hopefully, appear as active on some kind of sensory systems the aliens might have. They needed to look serious and intimidating, if they were going to get them to leave the planet alone.
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
Okay, here I am. Any chance that there could be some kind of summary of the alien races extant on the front page? I have no idea who I'm dealing with. Or is that intentional...
RACE NAME: Capricocial
APPEARANCE: The Capricocious body plan roughly spherical. Five, jointed legs ending in pincers extend from the main body, and these legs can be folded up inside the body during danger, or for sleeping. The top of the body is covered in a bony, segmented shell grown in adolescence, similar to turtle shell. Capricocials can also fold their appendages once and walk on their "knees" when inside confined locations, or the home. To use a human metaphor, fully extended pincers are used for running, while half-folded legs are used for walking.
The head is highly developed, and features a concentration of 10-12 small manipulative jointed mouthparts, analogous to fingers. Due to the precision of their manipulators, Capricocials are excellent toolmakers, precision engineers, and nanotechnologists. Capricocials have two large, main eyes, and two peripheral eyes. The mouth is used for communication, feeding, and reproduction. Capricocials are both warm-blooded and lay amniotic eggs. Capricocial children breed in large groups, a large portion of which die before adulthood.
Capricocials are functionally immortal, or at the least do not succumb to old age. Instead, as Capricocials grow, their metabolism and dietary requirements increase exponentially, as does their energy. So, the vast majority of Capricocials die by, quite literally, 'burning out'. In comparison to aging humans and other species, the last years of a Capricocial's life are also its' most productive. Less than one hundred Capricocials are older than one thousand years old, and these ancients fund their continued existence by various means. This is fundamentally untenable, however, and a few die every decade.
CIVILIZATION NAME: Second Salient Condominium (55th cycle of existence, 1 cycle roughly equivalent to 1.5 Earth years)
LOCATION: D/F
CULTURE: Society is generally a pyramidal mercantilist hierarchy. Common Capricocious philosophy follows a hierarchy of needs. The majority of individuals work to first satisfy personal needs of well-being and comfort, then attempt to extend well-being to their close genetic and financial associates. (Usually the two are one and the same; business partners intermarry frequently.) Capricocials form specialist trade associations that are in constant flux. These associations join larger mercantile blocs to help form policy that applies to all Capricocials. Recent philosophical and political developments are causing many Capricocials to view their entire race as part of one great trade association, though this is largely ephemeral.
GOVERNMENT: A quarterly policy convention of the twelve largest mercantile blocs, formed after the last planetary trade war. Membership in the upper tier of government structure is determined entirely by net worth. Policy decisions are made by weighted vote, with the vote being won by the side with the largest combined net worth.
DOMESTIC POLICY: The majority of society's individuals are locked into contractual arrangements providing for their well-being with private sustenance and energy contractors. There is no planetary "domestic policy;" the large mercantile blocs provide membership benefits in the form of various subsidies and perks to help improve well being. The fact that Capricocials must sacrifice such a large portion of their wealth to feed the older members of their society has caused a variety of controversies regarding euthanasia and mercantile pensions, complicated by the fact that these members are both the largest consumers AND producers of society. Some mercantile associations do enforce mandatory death dates for their members, while others oppose this vehemently.
XENOPOLICY: Highly open to trade, somewhat open to partnership if the partnership is, on balance, more beneficial to the Capricocials. Opportunistic, willing to exploit a reasonably weak enemy's resources and land, but not openly aggressive unless a major trade or investment opportunity cannot be achieved without aggression.
PERSONAL NAMES: Personal names become more developed with age. Particularly wealthy individuals are allowed to register an adjective. An influential mercantile official's name progression might read: Elta-13, Elta-Malar-4, Elta-Malar-Sephal, Elta-Malar-Sephal-Dynamic.
PLANET NAMES: Prime, (home planet) Chordic, Vertate, Amalian, Neural, Conduct
STAR NAMES: Scintillant (home star), Perplexant-1, Perplexant-2 (binary system), Auspicious-3 (habitable colonial system), etc.
SHIP NAMES: Cognitives (scout/communication ships), Integrals (Colony Ships), Disputatives (Light Attack/Fighter), Insistants (Medium Attack/Cruiser), Negotiators (Heavy Attack)
RACE NAME: Capricocial
APPEARANCE: The Capricocious body plan roughly spherical. Five, jointed legs ending in pincers extend from the main body, and these legs can be folded up inside the body during danger, or for sleeping. The top of the body is covered in a bony, segmented shell grown in adolescence, similar to turtle shell. Capricocials can also fold their appendages once and walk on their "knees" when inside confined locations, or the home. To use a human metaphor, fully extended pincers are used for running, while half-folded legs are used for walking.
The head is highly developed, and features a concentration of 10-12 small manipulative jointed mouthparts, analogous to fingers. Due to the precision of their manipulators, Capricocials are excellent toolmakers, precision engineers, and nanotechnologists. Capricocials have two large, main eyes, and two peripheral eyes. The mouth is used for communication, feeding, and reproduction. Capricocials are both warm-blooded and lay amniotic eggs. Capricocial children breed in large groups, a large portion of which die before adulthood.
Capricocials are functionally immortal, or at the least do not succumb to old age. Instead, as Capricocials grow, their metabolism and dietary requirements increase exponentially, as does their energy. So, the vast majority of Capricocials die by, quite literally, 'burning out'. In comparison to aging humans and other species, the last years of a Capricocial's life are also its' most productive. Less than one hundred Capricocials are older than one thousand years old, and these ancients fund their continued existence by various means. This is fundamentally untenable, however, and a few die every decade.
CIVILIZATION NAME: Second Salient Condominium (55th cycle of existence, 1 cycle roughly equivalent to 1.5 Earth years)
LOCATION: D/F
CULTURE: Society is generally a pyramidal mercantilist hierarchy. Common Capricocious philosophy follows a hierarchy of needs. The majority of individuals work to first satisfy personal needs of well-being and comfort, then attempt to extend well-being to their close genetic and financial associates. (Usually the two are one and the same; business partners intermarry frequently.) Capricocials form specialist trade associations that are in constant flux. These associations join larger mercantile blocs to help form policy that applies to all Capricocials. Recent philosophical and political developments are causing many Capricocials to view their entire race as part of one great trade association, though this is largely ephemeral.
GOVERNMENT: A quarterly policy convention of the twelve largest mercantile blocs, formed after the last planetary trade war. Membership in the upper tier of government structure is determined entirely by net worth. Policy decisions are made by weighted vote, with the vote being won by the side with the largest combined net worth.
DOMESTIC POLICY: The majority of society's individuals are locked into contractual arrangements providing for their well-being with private sustenance and energy contractors. There is no planetary "domestic policy;" the large mercantile blocs provide membership benefits in the form of various subsidies and perks to help improve well being. The fact that Capricocials must sacrifice such a large portion of their wealth to feed the older members of their society has caused a variety of controversies regarding euthanasia and mercantile pensions, complicated by the fact that these members are both the largest consumers AND producers of society. Some mercantile associations do enforce mandatory death dates for their members, while others oppose this vehemently.
XENOPOLICY: Highly open to trade, somewhat open to partnership if the partnership is, on balance, more beneficial to the Capricocials. Opportunistic, willing to exploit a reasonably weak enemy's resources and land, but not openly aggressive unless a major trade or investment opportunity cannot be achieved without aggression.
PERSONAL NAMES: Personal names become more developed with age. Particularly wealthy individuals are allowed to register an adjective. An influential mercantile official's name progression might read: Elta-13, Elta-Malar-4, Elta-Malar-Sephal, Elta-Malar-Sephal-Dynamic.
PLANET NAMES: Prime, (home planet) Chordic, Vertate, Amalian, Neural, Conduct
STAR NAMES: Scintillant (home star), Perplexant-1, Perplexant-2 (binary system), Auspicious-3 (habitable colonial system), etc.
SHIP NAMES: Cognitives (scout/communication ships), Integrals (Colony Ships), Disputatives (Light Attack/Fighter), Insistants (Medium Attack/Cruiser), Negotiators (Heavy Attack)
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
Oh yes, I forgot to mention. Capricocials talk like HK-47. For example, a stereotypical exchange.
Amorous statement. Pavar-Elest-1, I have never before met an individual with such knowledge of biology. Suggestion. Perhaps you could put that knowledge to the test? Exclamation. I wish to enter into genetic partnership with you!
Disgusted reaction. Teka-3, your shell isn't even fully grown! Continuation. Your gametes would most likely scar my reproductive tract. Unlikely statement. Gain several years, become a journeyman electrical engineer, and I might consider your contract.
Despairing response. I thought you loved me!
Calm reaction. Like an associate. Continuation. As it should remain.
Amorous statement. Pavar-Elest-1, I have never before met an individual with such knowledge of biology. Suggestion. Perhaps you could put that knowledge to the test? Exclamation. I wish to enter into genetic partnership with you!
Disgusted reaction. Teka-3, your shell isn't even fully grown! Continuation. Your gametes would most likely scar my reproductive tract. Unlikely statement. Gain several years, become a journeyman electrical engineer, and I might consider your contract.
Despairing response. I thought you loved me!
Calm reaction. Like an associate. Continuation. As it should remain.
Seon
Not An Evil Liar
maybe I should join too...
TaylorFlame
Nuclear Whale
- Joined
- Jan 15, 2008
- Messages
- 435
Supportive statement. I concur.
Bil
Prince of Space
I probably should have done that a while ago, but alas, when I was first setting up this NES, I lacked the experience to think ahead and reserve any posts. I can post it here now, and then simply link it on the front page. I'll probably do that at some point tomorrow.
Also the same as the Daktaklakpak, for anyone who's played Star Control 3
Emphatic exclamation: You should join immediately!
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