Shadowbound
Incorrugible
- Joined
- Mar 4, 2007
- Messages
- 4,079
Economic growth after you reach the planet's limit being more expensive, with a higher technology cutting down the expense?
Anyway, orders fixed.
Anyway, orders fixed.
SLYNES - Swirly Lights Yonder, a Never Ending Story
- Thread starter Bil
- Start date
Fuschia
A Little Odd
If this ends up happening, I may take control of the splinter, depending on how my schedule works out.
Either way, kudos to Shadowbound for picking up where I left off. Good to see the Kant not ending up dead simply because I didn't have time for them.
Visitors
Setto Anahli ran her dextrous arms over the dizzying array of controls, working to keep track of all of the feeds tracking the recent arrivals in the Haedkhad system. The huge array of data was being sent directly to the Governing Council of the Thaej Alliance in northern Sahlo, where the members were engaged in serious debate.
It was certainly a situation of great concern. The appearance of an unknown, alien ship had only been noticed a few days prior- who knows how long it had been silently observing from the outer wastes of the system? With the recent attack on the Startraveler Hraef in the Senkhad system, and the unresolved mystery of the disappeared Startraveler Rhetho, the Council had many reasons to express concern. A parallel argument to the question of what to do was spreading into the economic plans of the Alliance- colonization plans were falling under renewed criticism from many of the more inwardly-oriented Clades and Organizations, arms were pointed to the stalled Hrkan project, the proposed military startraveler still little more than a barely-clad skeleton of a ship in high orbit over Thaej.
Anahli was in the middle of a slight lull by another alert on a different channel. Mechanically, she opened it, then paused for a moment, clicking her jaws in surprise. Immediately recognizing the importance of this message, she placed a priority alert on the still-incoming broadcast, and forwarded the message to the Council.
Inside the Governing Councils soaring-walled complex, several heated discussions were ongoing, regarding the uses of preparing the land-based military, the form of first contact that should be initiated, and the ongoing argument between the militarists and colonizers. New paths of discussion dropped away, however, when the transmission from the missing Startraveler Rhetho began.
Hello there, my acquaintances of the Governing Council. This is Captain Wahano Sam, reporting from the Startraveler Rhetho in the Melokhad System. Our vessel has regained resonance with the Hyperspace Buoy network, resonance which was lost immediately after an unexpected transit event during a first contact with what we have now confirmed to be an alien species calling themselves Lelinthians. In brief, I will explain our situation:
Our last messages were sent from the Warkhad System, where our vessel was accosted by unknown, technological vessels whose natures remain mysterious to us. Our communications array was damaged by their weaponry, which was some sort of small metallic projectile. We evaded destruction briefly, but would have been lost had it not been for the intervention of a Lelinthian fleet in the system. Using missiles, they destroyed our assailants and drew us in to dock with them. I should note now that it seems that the Lelinthians have a capacity to exert an empathic influence over a distance on other creatures- this effect can be negated by shuffling ones thoughts any time one feels a mental or emotional disturbance. We strongly suspect this was in effect during our first contact.
We engaged in simple exchanges with Lelinthian allies, the Culud, before I was brought aboard their fleets largest vessel and we engaged in some form of alien superluminal event, for which we were unprepared. Our ship was brought to their homeworld, where we engaged in further contact, to the point where we were released, upon which we conducted several jumps to determine our location and re-establish contact with the buoy network. I am transferring full records in greater detail to your memory machines now.
At the present, we on the Rhetho are prepared to continue our exploration- the system within which we presently rest possesses an interesting planet giving off several odd energy signatures, and it is our intention to begin a planetary survey in the immediate future.
The feed went out, and conversation picked up again.
Biri Ando, a rather high-ranking figure from the space program, took the liberty of beginning a response.
Greetings, Rhetho Captain. It is reassuring to hear that your contact went well. The Startraveler Hraef has also made first contact, with what appears to be a different species. However, you can be filled in on that as we brief you in recent events since your disappearance. Our immediate concern is the presence of an unknown vessel which has recently turned up in the home system. Im transmitting data on it now.
You certainly seem to have accomodated alien life into your worldview rather quickly.
By necessity and overwhelming evidence, yes. Ando waved his arm about slightly, in a noncommittal gesture. Hletho are rather capable of having their understandings of the universe completely upset, although they still possess a strong tendency to hold loose bonds to the old understandings... just ask anyone from Jetha.
Now, do you recognize this craft?
Hundreds of lightyears away, Wahano Sam opened the transmission. The image of several ships, of a familiar design, blocky yet swept and rounded at the same time, projected in front of him.
Affirmative. This is Lelinthian design.
Thank you Captain. Proceed in your survey- the information you have provided should prove invaluable for our decisions regarding this situation.
Good luck sah. Responded Sam, cutting off the connection. Ando casually noted that the Hlethens voice was displaying a distinctive Bresian accent, while the rest of his mind focused on the creation of a message to transmit to the mysterious ship, breaking the long silence. Upon completing his message, the proposal was transmitted around to the various Councillors, who quickly accepted it. Within a few minutes, the message was sent. Vast relays sent a wide-band transmission instantaneously to several points in the stellar system, from which standard radio broadcasts were released.
Greetings Lelinthian Fleet. Welcome to the Haedkhad System. You are guests on Thaej as we were guests on Lolan. We are interested in trade, diplomacy and interaction. Learn together with us, and may we have peace.
Setto Anahli ran her dextrous arms over the dizzying array of controls, working to keep track of all of the feeds tracking the recent arrivals in the Haedkhad system. The huge array of data was being sent directly to the Governing Council of the Thaej Alliance in northern Sahlo, where the members were engaged in serious debate.
It was certainly a situation of great concern. The appearance of an unknown, alien ship had only been noticed a few days prior- who knows how long it had been silently observing from the outer wastes of the system? With the recent attack on the Startraveler Hraef in the Senkhad system, and the unresolved mystery of the disappeared Startraveler Rhetho, the Council had many reasons to express concern. A parallel argument to the question of what to do was spreading into the economic plans of the Alliance- colonization plans were falling under renewed criticism from many of the more inwardly-oriented Clades and Organizations, arms were pointed to the stalled Hrkan project, the proposed military startraveler still little more than a barely-clad skeleton of a ship in high orbit over Thaej.
Anahli was in the middle of a slight lull by another alert on a different channel. Mechanically, she opened it, then paused for a moment, clicking her jaws in surprise. Immediately recognizing the importance of this message, she placed a priority alert on the still-incoming broadcast, and forwarded the message to the Council.
Inside the Governing Councils soaring-walled complex, several heated discussions were ongoing, regarding the uses of preparing the land-based military, the form of first contact that should be initiated, and the ongoing argument between the militarists and colonizers. New paths of discussion dropped away, however, when the transmission from the missing Startraveler Rhetho began.
Hello there, my acquaintances of the Governing Council. This is Captain Wahano Sam, reporting from the Startraveler Rhetho in the Melokhad System. Our vessel has regained resonance with the Hyperspace Buoy network, resonance which was lost immediately after an unexpected transit event during a first contact with what we have now confirmed to be an alien species calling themselves Lelinthians. In brief, I will explain our situation:
Our last messages were sent from the Warkhad System, where our vessel was accosted by unknown, technological vessels whose natures remain mysterious to us. Our communications array was damaged by their weaponry, which was some sort of small metallic projectile. We evaded destruction briefly, but would have been lost had it not been for the intervention of a Lelinthian fleet in the system. Using missiles, they destroyed our assailants and drew us in to dock with them. I should note now that it seems that the Lelinthians have a capacity to exert an empathic influence over a distance on other creatures- this effect can be negated by shuffling ones thoughts any time one feels a mental or emotional disturbance. We strongly suspect this was in effect during our first contact.
We engaged in simple exchanges with Lelinthian allies, the Culud, before I was brought aboard their fleets largest vessel and we engaged in some form of alien superluminal event, for which we were unprepared. Our ship was brought to their homeworld, where we engaged in further contact, to the point where we were released, upon which we conducted several jumps to determine our location and re-establish contact with the buoy network. I am transferring full records in greater detail to your memory machines now.
At the present, we on the Rhetho are prepared to continue our exploration- the system within which we presently rest possesses an interesting planet giving off several odd energy signatures, and it is our intention to begin a planetary survey in the immediate future.
The feed went out, and conversation picked up again.
Biri Ando, a rather high-ranking figure from the space program, took the liberty of beginning a response.
Greetings, Rhetho Captain. It is reassuring to hear that your contact went well. The Startraveler Hraef has also made first contact, with what appears to be a different species. However, you can be filled in on that as we brief you in recent events since your disappearance. Our immediate concern is the presence of an unknown vessel which has recently turned up in the home system. Im transmitting data on it now.
You certainly seem to have accomodated alien life into your worldview rather quickly.
By necessity and overwhelming evidence, yes. Ando waved his arm about slightly, in a noncommittal gesture. Hletho are rather capable of having their understandings of the universe completely upset, although they still possess a strong tendency to hold loose bonds to the old understandings... just ask anyone from Jetha.
Now, do you recognize this craft?
Hundreds of lightyears away, Wahano Sam opened the transmission. The image of several ships, of a familiar design, blocky yet swept and rounded at the same time, projected in front of him.
Affirmative. This is Lelinthian design.
Thank you Captain. Proceed in your survey- the information you have provided should prove invaluable for our decisions regarding this situation.
Good luck sah. Responded Sam, cutting off the connection. Ando casually noted that the Hlethens voice was displaying a distinctive Bresian accent, while the rest of his mind focused on the creation of a message to transmit to the mysterious ship, breaking the long silence. Upon completing his message, the proposal was transmitted around to the various Councillors, who quickly accepted it. Within a few minutes, the message was sent. Vast relays sent a wide-band transmission instantaneously to several points in the stellar system, from which standard radio broadcasts were released.
Greetings Lelinthian Fleet. Welcome to the Haedkhad System. You are guests on Thaej as we were guests on Lolan. We are interested in trade, diplomacy and interaction. Learn together with us, and may we have peace.
Kvar squatted in a shell-hole-turned-foxhole, holding his rifle close to his chest and keeping his head as far below ground as possible. Artillery rounds slammed themselves into the ground all around him, erupting into geysers of dirt and ice. He waited for the shells to stop landing before cautiously bringing his head up above the protective rim of his foxhole.
The trees that had surrounded him only moments before were blown to away to matchsticks. Splinters had flown in all directions as shell fragments blew them apart. It took him a moment to realize his ears were ringing from the concussion of the blasts, and that he was now regaining that sense. Over the dulling screams in his ear he heard screams of fellow warriors, bawling and calling for help. He looked to the foxhole next to his and saw a young recruit squirming in front of his hole, a giant wooden splinter impaled in his chest, pinning him to the ground.
What was left of his force was a small, skeleton, rear guard unit. The rapid gains and successes from earlier in the war had finally slowed, and then reversed as the ICC was able to unite together and out-produce their northern and southern enemies. Kvar and what was left of his squad was tasked with holding off the advancing enemy company for as long as possible. They were not expected to surrender, but instead to fight to the last.
Boss Gerrik stood up in his foxhole, ahead of everyone else. He surveyed the survivors, then pumped his right fist rapidly three times up and down in the air. That was the sign to get ready. The enemy was approaching.
Kvar saw the first enemy soldier. Through his scope, he could see much easier and clearly through what remained of the vegetation, fog and smoke. The fact that a light snow had begun to fall did not help his sight any better, but it didn’t help the enemy’s, either. He fired on the first Clan soldier, hitting him square in the chest, sending him falling backwards, hot blood pooling on the ground around him as his team mates dropped to the ground.
The rest of Kvar’s squad opened fire on the leading element of the enemy’s force. Bullets and mag rounds ripped through the air in opposite directions from each other, both hoping to find a target. After about a minute and a half, the enemy had retreated. The Prince’s warriors cheered, but not nearly as excitedly as they had just a few years before. Kvar used the downtime to check and make sure his rifle was in working order.
Just as he had finished cleaning the chamber, more artillery shells began falling around their position. Luckily, most of the warriors were in their foxholes for this barrage, as they hadn’t left after the skirmish. Virtually no one was hurt when the fire was lifted. They all faced forward, waiting for the enemy to attack again.
Just as Kvar was scanning the forest ahead of him for enemy movement, the squad began taking fire from their left and right. The warriors had no idea which way to shoot at, and in the confusion, the enemy brought up a third element to the front, pouring fire on them from three directions. Eventually the Clan soldiers cut off their rear, boxing them in. There was no way they could survive. Gerrik threw his rifle up in the air, the universal sign for surrender. The rest of his squad followed suit, and within minutes the incoming fire had ceased. What looked like a Fed boss stepped forwards, towards Gerrik.
Flanked by two fellow warriors, each pointing their mag rifles at Gerrik’s chest, he slung his own rifle over his shoulder and held his hands out to receive Gerrick’s. Reluctantly the boss handed the rifle over, turned to the men, and instructed them to do the same.
Kvar waited for the Clan warriors to approach him, not wanting to spook them into firing on him. He had his rifle laying in front of his foxhole, while he stood in the back of it, holding up his arms in surrender. A young Fed warrior kicked his rifle to the side, hopped into the foxhole, and immediately began searching Kvar for loot. He pulled out a watch, some food, and a small flask of firebrew he had somehow kept filled throughout the war. The warrior smiled a wicked smile at him, opened the flask, and took a pull. He offered it back to Kvar who gladly followed his example, though instead of a quick pull, he downed the whole thing. No sense in letting this big oaf get any more of his stuff.
He handed the empty flask back to the enemy warrior who took it happily until he found it was empty. He threw it to the ground angrily and pulled his rifle up to his shoulder, aiming it straight at Kvar’s chest. He motioned with it for him to climb out of the foxhole. He did as he was told. His captor then pointed towards the group of Kvar’s surviving squad mates. He nodded and, hands over his head, he walked towards Gerrik and the rest of his team.
------
Magnus took the enemy lance captain and threw it in a small pile of weapons his soldiers had collected off the enemy prisoners. They had pursued this particular group of…bandits (he couldn’t think of any nicer a term for them) for nearly a month now. These warriors had proven elusive and difficult to kill and even in retreat they fought hard. They deserved the utmost respect he could offer them, no matter how little he liked them.
“Sir, we’ve captured an enemy squad.” He said, reporting in to his Knight Lieutenant. The KL nodded, he could see for himself. Magnus’ squad had already begun rounding up the prisoners to be sent back to the rear for interrogation. Most of his soldiers he didn’t know, being newly integrated into his unit as the survivors from the fall of Clan Sorenochs.
As he was talking to the KL, his back was turned to the rest of the squad. He was just about to call everyone into formation when he was startled by the sound of mag rifle fire. It wasn’t loud, but it made enough noise to draw his attention. He instinctively dropped to the ground, bringing his own rifle to his shoulder and turning to the sound of the noise.
To his surprise, the rest of the squad remained standing. The prisoners had all hit the dirt, but his squad just stood around, a couple of guys reloading their rifles. Magnus cautiously stood and glanced around at the squad, he realized just how casually they slung their rifles and began to form in on him. Then he realized why they didn’t seem all that worried. The enemy prisoners hadn’t dropped to the ground seeking cover, they dropped to the ground because they were too dead to full of mag rounds to do anything else.
One or two of the prisoners were still alive. One lay on the ground, his stomach split open, crying. A squad member stood above him with a large combat knife. He leaned into his face, flashed a nasty grin, and cut off an ear. “That is for burning my home, my family.” he wiped the blood off the blade as the enemy soldier continued screaming, then without warning cut off the other ear. “And that was for drinking all the brew.” He stood up and walked away, leaving the wounded man to bleed to death a few minutes later.
By now the shock had worn off. Magnus gathered himself, made sure he looked mean and intimidating. “Fall in!” he yelled. The warriors obeyed, filing in quickly and at attention. He looked the group over for a moment, then nodded. “Okay warriors, we move out in fifteen minutes. Gather your gear, we can’t give the enemy a break!” and with that, they went back to business.
------
Sven approached the small settlement with his armed escort. It was dark out, and the southerners were not supposed to be active in the village, but there was no sense in taking chances. This was the furthest south he had ever been, and though he had never particularly fancied the idea, he could not pass up the opportunity to discover something new.
Through the grapevine, word had spread from the south to Skjormbald that there was something strange, undiscovered wrecking havoc upon enemy warriors occupying the former clan Gortochs’ territory. No other scientist back home had volunteered to form an expedition to find out more about this…thing, what ever it was.
They approached the town, disguised as civilians. From as much as he could see, there were no warriors in the village, so Sven made his way to the safe house, knocking on the door. No one was outside, but even still the three men kept their guard up. The door cracked open slightly, Sven quickly said, “I come to sell bread.” to which the man on the other side replied, “Only in the morning.”
The door opened wide and the contact hurried the three inside. When the door was safely shut and all the curtains safely closed, the man turned to them.
“So, you come seeking the flying demon?” he asked, a sense of true dread on his voice as he asked.
Sven, the logical skeptic nodded politely. “Yes, that is right. We come seeking information on this creature.”
The contact’s eyes grew wide. “It is no mere creature, sire, it is a monster. It is a cold blooded killing machine. I have seen its handiworks myself. Enemy warriors, dead, killed with no mercy. And to top it all off, the thing burns all that it touches.”
Sven found the last part of the statement to be a bit of an exaggeration, nonetheless, he pressed on. “Okay, so tell me, where can I find this creature?”
The contact nodded, then whispered a quiet prayer to himself. “Sire, the creature is elusive. It can only be found if it wants to be found. I do not know where it makes its den, perhaps in the core of the planet itself.”
Sven sighed. He wasn’t going to get any decent info out of this guy, but at least he could try. “Okay, if you don’t know where I can find it, can you at least tell me what it looks like? Assuming you’ve seen it, of course.”
The contact nodded. “Ah, I have seen it, sir, once. At night. A dark, dark night.” he gulped, as if remembering the creature would summon it, but he continued. “It was small, no larger than a palmeesha. But it was armored from head to toe, and had many legs, and wings! It was the most ugly monstrosity I have ever seen. It certainly cannot be created by such a wise being as the great and noble Bos.”
Sven nodded, not really listening to the second half of what the local had to say. He was busy taking notes. Whatever the thing was, he realized, it had to be an insectoid of some kind. Perhaps if there was one, there’d be many more. Perhaps…
The trees that had surrounded him only moments before were blown to away to matchsticks. Splinters had flown in all directions as shell fragments blew them apart. It took him a moment to realize his ears were ringing from the concussion of the blasts, and that he was now regaining that sense. Over the dulling screams in his ear he heard screams of fellow warriors, bawling and calling for help. He looked to the foxhole next to his and saw a young recruit squirming in front of his hole, a giant wooden splinter impaled in his chest, pinning him to the ground.
What was left of his force was a small, skeleton, rear guard unit. The rapid gains and successes from earlier in the war had finally slowed, and then reversed as the ICC was able to unite together and out-produce their northern and southern enemies. Kvar and what was left of his squad was tasked with holding off the advancing enemy company for as long as possible. They were not expected to surrender, but instead to fight to the last.
Boss Gerrik stood up in his foxhole, ahead of everyone else. He surveyed the survivors, then pumped his right fist rapidly three times up and down in the air. That was the sign to get ready. The enemy was approaching.
Kvar saw the first enemy soldier. Through his scope, he could see much easier and clearly through what remained of the vegetation, fog and smoke. The fact that a light snow had begun to fall did not help his sight any better, but it didn’t help the enemy’s, either. He fired on the first Clan soldier, hitting him square in the chest, sending him falling backwards, hot blood pooling on the ground around him as his team mates dropped to the ground.
The rest of Kvar’s squad opened fire on the leading element of the enemy’s force. Bullets and mag rounds ripped through the air in opposite directions from each other, both hoping to find a target. After about a minute and a half, the enemy had retreated. The Prince’s warriors cheered, but not nearly as excitedly as they had just a few years before. Kvar used the downtime to check and make sure his rifle was in working order.
Just as he had finished cleaning the chamber, more artillery shells began falling around their position. Luckily, most of the warriors were in their foxholes for this barrage, as they hadn’t left after the skirmish. Virtually no one was hurt when the fire was lifted. They all faced forward, waiting for the enemy to attack again.
Just as Kvar was scanning the forest ahead of him for enemy movement, the squad began taking fire from their left and right. The warriors had no idea which way to shoot at, and in the confusion, the enemy brought up a third element to the front, pouring fire on them from three directions. Eventually the Clan soldiers cut off their rear, boxing them in. There was no way they could survive. Gerrik threw his rifle up in the air, the universal sign for surrender. The rest of his squad followed suit, and within minutes the incoming fire had ceased. What looked like a Fed boss stepped forwards, towards Gerrik.
Flanked by two fellow warriors, each pointing their mag rifles at Gerrik’s chest, he slung his own rifle over his shoulder and held his hands out to receive Gerrick’s. Reluctantly the boss handed the rifle over, turned to the men, and instructed them to do the same.
Kvar waited for the Clan warriors to approach him, not wanting to spook them into firing on him. He had his rifle laying in front of his foxhole, while he stood in the back of it, holding up his arms in surrender. A young Fed warrior kicked his rifle to the side, hopped into the foxhole, and immediately began searching Kvar for loot. He pulled out a watch, some food, and a small flask of firebrew he had somehow kept filled throughout the war. The warrior smiled a wicked smile at him, opened the flask, and took a pull. He offered it back to Kvar who gladly followed his example, though instead of a quick pull, he downed the whole thing. No sense in letting this big oaf get any more of his stuff.
He handed the empty flask back to the enemy warrior who took it happily until he found it was empty. He threw it to the ground angrily and pulled his rifle up to his shoulder, aiming it straight at Kvar’s chest. He motioned with it for him to climb out of the foxhole. He did as he was told. His captor then pointed towards the group of Kvar’s surviving squad mates. He nodded and, hands over his head, he walked towards Gerrik and the rest of his team.
------
Magnus took the enemy lance captain and threw it in a small pile of weapons his soldiers had collected off the enemy prisoners. They had pursued this particular group of…bandits (he couldn’t think of any nicer a term for them) for nearly a month now. These warriors had proven elusive and difficult to kill and even in retreat they fought hard. They deserved the utmost respect he could offer them, no matter how little he liked them.
“Sir, we’ve captured an enemy squad.” He said, reporting in to his Knight Lieutenant. The KL nodded, he could see for himself. Magnus’ squad had already begun rounding up the prisoners to be sent back to the rear for interrogation. Most of his soldiers he didn’t know, being newly integrated into his unit as the survivors from the fall of Clan Sorenochs.
As he was talking to the KL, his back was turned to the rest of the squad. He was just about to call everyone into formation when he was startled by the sound of mag rifle fire. It wasn’t loud, but it made enough noise to draw his attention. He instinctively dropped to the ground, bringing his own rifle to his shoulder and turning to the sound of the noise.
To his surprise, the rest of the squad remained standing. The prisoners had all hit the dirt, but his squad just stood around, a couple of guys reloading their rifles. Magnus cautiously stood and glanced around at the squad, he realized just how casually they slung their rifles and began to form in on him. Then he realized why they didn’t seem all that worried. The enemy prisoners hadn’t dropped to the ground seeking cover, they dropped to the ground because they were too dead to full of mag rounds to do anything else.
One or two of the prisoners were still alive. One lay on the ground, his stomach split open, crying. A squad member stood above him with a large combat knife. He leaned into his face, flashed a nasty grin, and cut off an ear. “That is for burning my home, my family.” he wiped the blood off the blade as the enemy soldier continued screaming, then without warning cut off the other ear. “And that was for drinking all the brew.” He stood up and walked away, leaving the wounded man to bleed to death a few minutes later.
By now the shock had worn off. Magnus gathered himself, made sure he looked mean and intimidating. “Fall in!” he yelled. The warriors obeyed, filing in quickly and at attention. He looked the group over for a moment, then nodded. “Okay warriors, we move out in fifteen minutes. Gather your gear, we can’t give the enemy a break!” and with that, they went back to business.
------
Sven approached the small settlement with his armed escort. It was dark out, and the southerners were not supposed to be active in the village, but there was no sense in taking chances. This was the furthest south he had ever been, and though he had never particularly fancied the idea, he could not pass up the opportunity to discover something new.
Through the grapevine, word had spread from the south to Skjormbald that there was something strange, undiscovered wrecking havoc upon enemy warriors occupying the former clan Gortochs’ territory. No other scientist back home had volunteered to form an expedition to find out more about this…thing, what ever it was.
They approached the town, disguised as civilians. From as much as he could see, there were no warriors in the village, so Sven made his way to the safe house, knocking on the door. No one was outside, but even still the three men kept their guard up. The door cracked open slightly, Sven quickly said, “I come to sell bread.” to which the man on the other side replied, “Only in the morning.”
The door opened wide and the contact hurried the three inside. When the door was safely shut and all the curtains safely closed, the man turned to them.
“So, you come seeking the flying demon?” he asked, a sense of true dread on his voice as he asked.
Sven, the logical skeptic nodded politely. “Yes, that is right. We come seeking information on this creature.”
The contact’s eyes grew wide. “It is no mere creature, sire, it is a monster. It is a cold blooded killing machine. I have seen its handiworks myself. Enemy warriors, dead, killed with no mercy. And to top it all off, the thing burns all that it touches.”
Sven found the last part of the statement to be a bit of an exaggeration, nonetheless, he pressed on. “Okay, so tell me, where can I find this creature?”
The contact nodded, then whispered a quiet prayer to himself. “Sire, the creature is elusive. It can only be found if it wants to be found. I do not know where it makes its den, perhaps in the core of the planet itself.”
Sven sighed. He wasn’t going to get any decent info out of this guy, but at least he could try. “Okay, if you don’t know where I can find it, can you at least tell me what it looks like? Assuming you’ve seen it, of course.”
The contact nodded. “Ah, I have seen it, sir, once. At night. A dark, dark night.” he gulped, as if remembering the creature would summon it, but he continued. “It was small, no larger than a palmeesha. But it was armored from head to toe, and had many legs, and wings! It was the most ugly monstrosity I have ever seen. It certainly cannot be created by such a wise being as the great and noble Bos.”
Sven nodded, not really listening to the second half of what the local had to say. He was busy taking notes. Whatever the thing was, he realized, it had to be an insectoid of some kind. Perhaps if there was one, there’d be many more. Perhaps…
Bil
Prince of Space
Galactic Sector I/E - Planet Thaej
Fleet Warden Lotholitel carefully observed her screens. For several days now, her fleet had been hanging in the outer edges of the solar system, only passively utilizing their mild stealth technology. She wasn't even certain of the effect it was having, as they had only gained a minimal understanding of Hlethan technology before they let the Rhetho depart. Regardless, it was irrelevant, as they were keeping their distance for one reason or another.
The data obtained of the Hlethan home world, from this distance, was still rather vague. She peered closely at the screens, trying to discern the large tracts of purple vegetation. It was, perhaps, the greatest curiosity she could determine in this system. Nothing on Lolan was like this, and the very idea of purple vegetation went against everything she understood--which, albeit, wasn't much--about the evolutionary principles of plant-like evolution. It warranted further study, possibly more so than the Hlethans themselves.
Two more Lolan-days passed before she decided to move the fleet. Carefully, of course. The formation she ordered was loose, and many of the ships were staying behind on the outer reaches, partially to disperse any fear that might occur at the approach, but also to survey the outer system to increase the Lelinthian understanding of star system formation. While her duties had, over the past few years, become highly diplomatic in nature, the Lelinthian pursuit of science and understanding was always at the forefront of every expedition.
Another Lolan-day of slow and steady approach, more ships leaving the group to stay behind in the outer system, poking around at a distance from the outer planets, trying to glean what they could. Finally, the data on Thaej was becoming clear. Yes, many of the plants were purple. She had assumed it wasn't an error, but there was always that possibility. It was time to make contact with them again.
Tapping away at the controls, her five limbs drifting across the large control screen gracefully, she worked out a transmission. While it had taken some time to construct and process through the translation programs, it came out quite clear as a result, or so she hoped.
"Greetings. I am Warden. Your vessel, Rhetho, is safe. It has continued its journey. We have made friends with the crew. You are interesting to us. We would like to continue our study. There is no threat here. May we come to your home?"
She checked one of the view screens, currently showing the Culud named Uk, who had recently been promoted to a new position: Hlethan Interaction Advisor. While it was odd to trust any Culud with responsibilities like these, Uk had proven his capacity in communicating and gaining marginal trust with Hlethans on the Rhetho, despite his limited contact with them over the full length of time they were present at the orbital tower. Uk seemed very interested in the Hlethans, and was actually a significant help in refining the translation programs. His ability to speak and hear their language to the limited extent that he had been able to learn put him far above any other Culud and most Lelinthians as far as qualifications went.
Uk seemed pleased. It wasn't difficult to please a Culud, even without emotional guidance, but he seemed more pleased than would have been typical had he merely remained a workman. The small Culud looked into the screen that contained the camera and nodded, signaling to Lotholitel that the transmission was successfully sent and, as far as he could tell, properly translated. It would be years, quite likely, before he would actually have the capacity to speak the dominant Hlethan language, but he seemed dedicated.
Lotholitel chose to rest at this time.
--------------------
Galactic Sector J/D - Planet Lolan
Fleet Warden Kululuthul had snapped out of his trace shortly after the fleet arrived in orbit of the home world, spent some time orienting himself and stretching as he swam about his tank. The mission to the Satellian home world was boring, but at least it was finished. He had been assigned this command as a war leader, not an errand runner or a diplomat, but the other fleets were occupied. There were so many intelligent species in this region of the galaxy, and it was getting a bit overwhelming. It didn't seem as if any of them were as pliant as the Culud, and none would easily be put under the guidance of the Lelinthians.
He had thought that he would have been subjugating the Satellians by now, but the female leadership seemed insistent that they could be wooed. The males were still barely trusted with command, and in truth, he was the only one with any real measurable power outside of Lolan itself. Males were aggressive and had little patience, he knew that very well; females were nurturing and protective, and thus they were in charge. The Culud never responded well to violence or threats, especially not in the early days of interaction. They liked the motherly feelings that a female Lelinthian exuded, however. They liked to be children.
Kululuthul swam clear across his tank, back and forth several times, getting in his exercise for the day. They would be docking soon. While he was waiting for the Satellian expedition to complete its tasks, he spent his time reading up on the strange system in which the Hlethans were first encountered. Automated vessels trying to wipe each other out, with no clear factions to guide the conflict. They all seemed to be broken machines. Regardless, they were a significant threat. He hoped that this would be his next assignment. He wanted to destroy something, and a whole race of machines would be an excellent target. No remorse or pity, no regrets. The females would not shed one wail for the destruction of these automatons. He could already feel the glee of combat welling up in his body, and could only wonder what it would look like to make a whole world burn.
---------------
Galactic Sector J/C - Planet Uulullu
It had been quite some time that Kelethletel had spent in orbit of this world. The inhabitants were simple folk, barely able to harness the power of steam, ignorant of what loomed over them. They fought each other continuously, and in the past few years of study, Kelethletel had counted fifteen separate wars, or so it seemed. Perhaps they were all one single war broken into numerous theaters. She could not be certain, though they were truly a violent people.
The Culud had engaged in countless wars over the past few thousand years, particularly involving religious differences in the times when they saw the Lelinthians as great sea gods. It was a barbaric age, even for the Lelinthians of that time, for these wars were encouraged. Males had an equal standing then, which showed; she reflected her lessons in history, remembering the feelings passed down to her from those that received them from those that felt them. The originators were there, observing the Culud, horrified at their violence when committed to war. These alien creatures were not dissimilar. Small, bipedal, land-dwelling. Though they had two pairs of manipulating limbs and large, bulbous heads, they still reminded her quite a bit of the Culud that she knew so well.
She expressed with the other Wardens that perhaps they should try to intervene, though many disagreed. More problems, one of the Wardens expressed, Let them grow. Kelethletel did not agree, though she saw the point. Great vessels descending from the sky would only instill panic and terror, most likely. Even a small expedition of Culud would be bad, as they would likely be killed by these creatures. Too violent, too unstable. They should be watched further.
Fleet Warden Lotholitel carefully observed her screens. For several days now, her fleet had been hanging in the outer edges of the solar system, only passively utilizing their mild stealth technology. She wasn't even certain of the effect it was having, as they had only gained a minimal understanding of Hlethan technology before they let the Rhetho depart. Regardless, it was irrelevant, as they were keeping their distance for one reason or another.
The data obtained of the Hlethan home world, from this distance, was still rather vague. She peered closely at the screens, trying to discern the large tracts of purple vegetation. It was, perhaps, the greatest curiosity she could determine in this system. Nothing on Lolan was like this, and the very idea of purple vegetation went against everything she understood--which, albeit, wasn't much--about the evolutionary principles of plant-like evolution. It warranted further study, possibly more so than the Hlethans themselves.
Two more Lolan-days passed before she decided to move the fleet. Carefully, of course. The formation she ordered was loose, and many of the ships were staying behind on the outer reaches, partially to disperse any fear that might occur at the approach, but also to survey the outer system to increase the Lelinthian understanding of star system formation. While her duties had, over the past few years, become highly diplomatic in nature, the Lelinthian pursuit of science and understanding was always at the forefront of every expedition.
Another Lolan-day of slow and steady approach, more ships leaving the group to stay behind in the outer system, poking around at a distance from the outer planets, trying to glean what they could. Finally, the data on Thaej was becoming clear. Yes, many of the plants were purple. She had assumed it wasn't an error, but there was always that possibility. It was time to make contact with them again.
Tapping away at the controls, her five limbs drifting across the large control screen gracefully, she worked out a transmission. While it had taken some time to construct and process through the translation programs, it came out quite clear as a result, or so she hoped.
"Greetings. I am Warden. Your vessel, Rhetho, is safe. It has continued its journey. We have made friends with the crew. You are interesting to us. We would like to continue our study. There is no threat here. May we come to your home?"
She checked one of the view screens, currently showing the Culud named Uk, who had recently been promoted to a new position: Hlethan Interaction Advisor. While it was odd to trust any Culud with responsibilities like these, Uk had proven his capacity in communicating and gaining marginal trust with Hlethans on the Rhetho, despite his limited contact with them over the full length of time they were present at the orbital tower. Uk seemed very interested in the Hlethans, and was actually a significant help in refining the translation programs. His ability to speak and hear their language to the limited extent that he had been able to learn put him far above any other Culud and most Lelinthians as far as qualifications went.
Uk seemed pleased. It wasn't difficult to please a Culud, even without emotional guidance, but he seemed more pleased than would have been typical had he merely remained a workman. The small Culud looked into the screen that contained the camera and nodded, signaling to Lotholitel that the transmission was successfully sent and, as far as he could tell, properly translated. It would be years, quite likely, before he would actually have the capacity to speak the dominant Hlethan language, but he seemed dedicated.
Lotholitel chose to rest at this time.
--------------------
Galactic Sector J/D - Planet Lolan
Fleet Warden Kululuthul had snapped out of his trace shortly after the fleet arrived in orbit of the home world, spent some time orienting himself and stretching as he swam about his tank. The mission to the Satellian home world was boring, but at least it was finished. He had been assigned this command as a war leader, not an errand runner or a diplomat, but the other fleets were occupied. There were so many intelligent species in this region of the galaxy, and it was getting a bit overwhelming. It didn't seem as if any of them were as pliant as the Culud, and none would easily be put under the guidance of the Lelinthians.
He had thought that he would have been subjugating the Satellians by now, but the female leadership seemed insistent that they could be wooed. The males were still barely trusted with command, and in truth, he was the only one with any real measurable power outside of Lolan itself. Males were aggressive and had little patience, he knew that very well; females were nurturing and protective, and thus they were in charge. The Culud never responded well to violence or threats, especially not in the early days of interaction. They liked the motherly feelings that a female Lelinthian exuded, however. They liked to be children.
Kululuthul swam clear across his tank, back and forth several times, getting in his exercise for the day. They would be docking soon. While he was waiting for the Satellian expedition to complete its tasks, he spent his time reading up on the strange system in which the Hlethans were first encountered. Automated vessels trying to wipe each other out, with no clear factions to guide the conflict. They all seemed to be broken machines. Regardless, they were a significant threat. He hoped that this would be his next assignment. He wanted to destroy something, and a whole race of machines would be an excellent target. No remorse or pity, no regrets. The females would not shed one wail for the destruction of these automatons. He could already feel the glee of combat welling up in his body, and could only wonder what it would look like to make a whole world burn.
---------------
Galactic Sector J/C - Planet Uulullu
It had been quite some time that Kelethletel had spent in orbit of this world. The inhabitants were simple folk, barely able to harness the power of steam, ignorant of what loomed over them. They fought each other continuously, and in the past few years of study, Kelethletel had counted fifteen separate wars, or so it seemed. Perhaps they were all one single war broken into numerous theaters. She could not be certain, though they were truly a violent people.
The Culud had engaged in countless wars over the past few thousand years, particularly involving religious differences in the times when they saw the Lelinthians as great sea gods. It was a barbaric age, even for the Lelinthians of that time, for these wars were encouraged. Males had an equal standing then, which showed; she reflected her lessons in history, remembering the feelings passed down to her from those that received them from those that felt them. The originators were there, observing the Culud, horrified at their violence when committed to war. These alien creatures were not dissimilar. Small, bipedal, land-dwelling. Though they had two pairs of manipulating limbs and large, bulbous heads, they still reminded her quite a bit of the Culud that she knew so well.
She expressed with the other Wardens that perhaps they should try to intervene, though many disagreed. More problems, one of the Wardens expressed, Let them grow. Kelethletel did not agree, though she saw the point. Great vessels descending from the sky would only instill panic and terror, most likely. Even a small expedition of Culud would be bad, as they would likely be killed by these creatures. Too violent, too unstable. They should be watched further.
Seon
Not An Evil Liar
canI have stats for my race? 
Bil
Prince of Space
canI have stats for my race?
Yes, yes, of course. I honestly forgot, but it's okay, because you don't need them for a week
ECONOMY: 2e (+2.5e/turn)
TECHNOLOGY: 1
STABILITY: 7
FLEETS: 1 (-0.5e/turn)
MILITARY: 0
I gave you a boost just like I gave the other new players a boost. Hope it helps you jump into the galactic goings-on a little more quickly. Do you need any clarifications for any of the rules or anything?
Bil
Prince of Space
A while ago, I started drawing a Lelinthian flagship in Iggy's ship-drawing style. I finally finished it.
Spoiler :
Thedreadedlock
Chieftain
Hae's Mission log...
My crew and I landed on this desolate barren wasteland, about what I calculate to be about 8 days. Researchers back on Bako said that this planet was habitable, I knew it seemed too good to be true, and sadly I was correct, with radiation levels so high I can't even step out of the Escheria II without the level 3 survival suit, I don't see any possibility of life, true life existing here. However, after our geological survey of the planet we have confirmed large deposits of many minerals here for which we can use back home. I believe that the miners will have field day with this planet Tounis
My crew and I landed on this desolate barren wasteland, about what I calculate to be about 8 days. Researchers back on Bako said that this planet was habitable, I knew it seemed too good to be true, and sadly I was correct, with radiation levels so high I can't even step out of the Escheria II without the level 3 survival suit, I don't see any possibility of life, true life existing here. However, after our geological survey of the planet we have confirmed large deposits of many minerals here for which we can use back home. I believe that the miners will have field day with this planet Tounis
Thedreadedlock
Chieftain
Ets is not a selfish Tellian. On the contrary, he is very giving. Whenever other Scorll farmers are behind on their quotas, or need a hand in cultivating their crops he is more than willing to make a donation or lend a helping hand. He was without a doubt the most productive farmer in all of Bako, and while fully aware of this fact, never once boasted about his fortune to others. He didn't partake in the consumption of any kind of dizzy water, and frowned upon the use of any kind of "herbs". He believed them to be a temporary solution to a permanent problem. He was not lazy by any means. He woke up every morning and took care of his farm with nothing more than an odd set of tools, no fancy machinery like those that had been used by many other farmers. He would only break to see his two young daughters to the sinker, their school was underwater and sinkers and buses that take the young Bako Tellians there. His oldest son would awake during this time and start tending to the fields and when Ets finished the two would work the fields together talking about any and everything. Thought he'd lost his wife just 3 years ago, he did not stop supporting his family and his children were still well taken care of. Perhaps his only vice was that he never did mourn his wife, when asked why he did not express sadness he would smile and reply "there's still works to do". He lived an honest life, never cheated or took the short route. Which is why he couldn't understand why this was happening to him.
Hurricane's are a frequent occurrence on Bako, In fact they actually measure them not by seasons but rather systems. System can be years at a time when hurricanes ravage the land. usually, especially for a farmer, a system can be a good thing. More rain, fewer days in the field. But this one was different, it was concentrated so heavily on poor Ets's island of Ruckun that it flooded his farm, and rather than the days of sunshine known as the ray of relief like most farmers were used to the storms just continued to bombard Ruckun. It rained for months with breaks of dark bleak sky that let the Ruckunians know that the worst has yet to come. Sadly after his house was flooded Ets was forced to take his family to the deep shelter. There they huddled up with their equally unfortunate neighbors for about seven weeks. Once it was over Ets led his family back to where their home was. The large dome now resembled a broken egg shell The waves had knocked out a major part of the wall, It was a miracle some of it was still standing, if that's what one would call it, standing. Arp and Gry, Ets's daughters fellout in unison crying for their home, and how they had lost their mother, then their house, what could be next. Lub did not cry, but stood their balling his webbed hand into a fist. The anger and sadness he was feeling could not be contained and his current began to flow out so powerfully that the girls could feel it. They stopped and looked at their brother, though obviously sad, too prideful as a man to show it. However, because as a Bako Tellian, his current let those around him know how he was truly feeling. Ets walked over to his son, put his hand on his shoulder and told him, "Son there's no time to hold it in. There's work to do." Lub broke down on his knees crying, which made his sisters cry as well. Ets, though saddened by the loss of his home and farm, did not cry he told himself there's work to do, and walked to the pile of rubble. This is how Ets responded to the first wave of the storm system, but as mentioned before a Hurricane system can last for years...
Hurricane's are a frequent occurrence on Bako, In fact they actually measure them not by seasons but rather systems. System can be years at a time when hurricanes ravage the land. usually, especially for a farmer, a system can be a good thing. More rain, fewer days in the field. But this one was different, it was concentrated so heavily on poor Ets's island of Ruckun that it flooded his farm, and rather than the days of sunshine known as the ray of relief like most farmers were used to the storms just continued to bombard Ruckun. It rained for months with breaks of dark bleak sky that let the Ruckunians know that the worst has yet to come. Sadly after his house was flooded Ets was forced to take his family to the deep shelter. There they huddled up with their equally unfortunate neighbors for about seven weeks. Once it was over Ets led his family back to where their home was. The large dome now resembled a broken egg shell The waves had knocked out a major part of the wall, It was a miracle some of it was still standing, if that's what one would call it, standing. Arp and Gry, Ets's daughters fellout in unison crying for their home, and how they had lost their mother, then their house, what could be next. Lub did not cry, but stood their balling his webbed hand into a fist. The anger and sadness he was feeling could not be contained and his current began to flow out so powerfully that the girls could feel it. They stopped and looked at their brother, though obviously sad, too prideful as a man to show it. However, because as a Bako Tellian, his current let those around him know how he was truly feeling. Ets walked over to his son, put his hand on his shoulder and told him, "Son there's no time to hold it in. There's work to do." Lub broke down on his knees crying, which made his sisters cry as well. Ets, though saddened by the loss of his home and farm, did not cry he told himself there's work to do, and walked to the pile of rubble. This is how Ets responded to the first wave of the storm system, but as mentioned before a Hurricane system can last for years...
Seon
Not An Evil Liar
Oh yeah, did I mention that the Aiweh uses non-Euclidic geometry (circles, elipses,a nd curves instead of angles)?
Thought that it would add to the pure weirdness of the critters...
Thought that it would add to the pure weirdness of the critters...
The Voice of the Council
“Interesting, it seems that they’re sending a transmission of their own.”
Setto Anahli and Biri Ando, the communications engineer and diplomat respectively, listened to the message along with the rest of the Governing Council. Upon its conclusion, the group burst back into discussion.
“Fascinating.”
“How are they speaking our language?”
“Observe the Rhetho’s log- they have apparently developed translation technology.”
“Were they even responding to our message?”
Amidst the bustle, Ando began to record a new message.
“Greetings Warden, I am Councillor Biri Ando, speaking on behalf of the Governing Council of the Thaej Alliance. We enjoy hearing of the Rhetho from additional sources, and repeat our earlier invitations to you, to be guests on Thaej as members of our species were guests on Lolan. It is our role to reciprocate your hospitality.”
Ando paused and looked to the fellow members of the council, who affirmed his message.
“State our intentions.” Suggested Iulais Poorethen, a Jethan Councillor.
“Like yourselves, we desire peace. Beyond this, we seek trade, diplomacy, and mutual learning, if you are amenable to such things.”
With a near-unanimous vote from the Council, the recording was relayed back out into space, rapidly reaching the approaching fleet. The various Hletho gathered in the room were exploding back into intense, frantic conversation. The threads of destiny were pulling taut.
“Interesting, it seems that they’re sending a transmission of their own.”
Setto Anahli and Biri Ando, the communications engineer and diplomat respectively, listened to the message along with the rest of the Governing Council. Upon its conclusion, the group burst back into discussion.
“Fascinating.”
“How are they speaking our language?”
“Observe the Rhetho’s log- they have apparently developed translation technology.”
“Were they even responding to our message?”
Amidst the bustle, Ando began to record a new message.
“Greetings Warden, I am Councillor Biri Ando, speaking on behalf of the Governing Council of the Thaej Alliance. We enjoy hearing of the Rhetho from additional sources, and repeat our earlier invitations to you, to be guests on Thaej as members of our species were guests on Lolan. It is our role to reciprocate your hospitality.”
Ando paused and looked to the fellow members of the council, who affirmed his message.
“State our intentions.” Suggested Iulais Poorethen, a Jethan Councillor.
“Like yourselves, we desire peace. Beyond this, we seek trade, diplomacy, and mutual learning, if you are amenable to such things.”
With a near-unanimous vote from the Council, the recording was relayed back out into space, rapidly reaching the approaching fleet. The various Hletho gathered in the room were exploding back into intense, frantic conversation. The threads of destiny were pulling taut.
The Jewel of Melokhad
A brief intra-system jump had brought the Startraveler Rhetho as close as was reasonably safe to the large, rocky planet in the inner system- sojourns through areas of excessively high gas content tended to put undue strains on the Trident Module, and while it had not been tested, it was believed that coming out of compaction in regions of particularly high density, such as those of an atmosphere or, mother forbid, solid objects, would have devastating consequences for the surrounding space- and all of these problems dont even touch on how gravity would surreptitiously alter the directions of compaction events.
The Hletho vessel appeared like an infinitely thin line suddenly snapping into position like a released elastic, appearing at a cruising speed within visual range of two of the planets dirty greyish white moons.
Were getting all sorts of signals on the receiver here. Noted Nahla, beginning a methodical investigation.
Do they look ordered, or is this just some sort of natural phenomenon?
...ordered. Definitely ordered.
Could this be a Lelinthian Colony? suggested Taesh.
Possibly, responded Daeja, Though they werent particularly forthcoming in discussing their own stellar explorations.
Regardless, were deploying a probe.
Done. Said Daeja with a grin, tapping a few controls. Views on the screens around the ships command centre showed the ablative pod, carrying the cluster of balloon-carried exploratory drones, launching free of the Rhetho and hurtling down towards the planet, a stunning sphere of blue, with a few greenish continents shrouded in thick wisps of cloud.
Now, should we send a transmission? asked Daeja, simultaneously monitoring the probes descent into the outermost reaches of the planets exosphere.
Mo, who had been rather reticent up to this point, finally took the opportunity to speak.
Definitely. If this is a Lelinthian colony, wed want to know that, and if this is someone else entirely... well, itll be first contact all over again.
Agreed. Affirmed Sam, There is no reason to just sit here and be silent. If theyre Lelinthians, they might not have heard of us yet, and if theyre someone different, it would be advisable to open up communications first, as a show of good will. Nahla, prepare to broadcast a wideband message.
Hello. This is the crew of the Hlethan Startraveler Rhetho. We are here to explore and learn.
Yes, thats all. It is a rather aesthetically pleasing planet as seen from here, although its somewhat lacking in normal plant shades. Perhaps Thaej is an anomaly.
Youre still recording? You can stop now Nahla.
A brief intra-system jump had brought the Startraveler Rhetho as close as was reasonably safe to the large, rocky planet in the inner system- sojourns through areas of excessively high gas content tended to put undue strains on the Trident Module, and while it had not been tested, it was believed that coming out of compaction in regions of particularly high density, such as those of an atmosphere or, mother forbid, solid objects, would have devastating consequences for the surrounding space- and all of these problems dont even touch on how gravity would surreptitiously alter the directions of compaction events.
The Hletho vessel appeared like an infinitely thin line suddenly snapping into position like a released elastic, appearing at a cruising speed within visual range of two of the planets dirty greyish white moons.
Were getting all sorts of signals on the receiver here. Noted Nahla, beginning a methodical investigation.
Do they look ordered, or is this just some sort of natural phenomenon?
...ordered. Definitely ordered.
Could this be a Lelinthian Colony? suggested Taesh.
Possibly, responded Daeja, Though they werent particularly forthcoming in discussing their own stellar explorations.
Regardless, were deploying a probe.
Done. Said Daeja with a grin, tapping a few controls. Views on the screens around the ships command centre showed the ablative pod, carrying the cluster of balloon-carried exploratory drones, launching free of the Rhetho and hurtling down towards the planet, a stunning sphere of blue, with a few greenish continents shrouded in thick wisps of cloud.
Now, should we send a transmission? asked Daeja, simultaneously monitoring the probes descent into the outermost reaches of the planets exosphere.
Mo, who had been rather reticent up to this point, finally took the opportunity to speak.
Definitely. If this is a Lelinthian colony, wed want to know that, and if this is someone else entirely... well, itll be first contact all over again.
Agreed. Affirmed Sam, There is no reason to just sit here and be silent. If theyre Lelinthians, they might not have heard of us yet, and if theyre someone different, it would be advisable to open up communications first, as a show of good will. Nahla, prepare to broadcast a wideband message.
Hello. This is the crew of the Hlethan Startraveler Rhetho. We are here to explore and learn.
Yes, thats all. It is a rather aesthetically pleasing planet as seen from here, although its somewhat lacking in normal plant shades. Perhaps Thaej is an anomaly.
Youre still recording? You can stop now Nahla.
Bil
Prince of Space
Galactic Sector I/C - Hmmaiaa
Vrun had been on the Satellian home world for roughly two local days by the time he received a call from his mating partner.
"Vrun, hello," his partner Ulls said over the comm line, "How was the trip? Horrible?"
"Not so bad," Vrun answered, "Space travel isn't as uncomfortable as I thought it would have been. You should try it some time."
A sputtering noise came through the speaker, Vrun identifying it as a laugh. Ulls said, "Yeah, no, I won't. Not ever. I did that once before the Sleep, remember? I was sick for days!"
"We have pills for that now," he answered, "I didn't get that sick."
Ulls laughed again, the speakers crackling as a result, "Yeah, well, I'm not doing it. When are you coming back?"
"I haven't decided," Vrun said, "There's a lot of Satellian stuff to see here. It's pretty... big. I guess I didn't really know what to expect. Did you know that most of them live underground?"
"Yeah," Ulls replied, "Didn't you read the pamphlet I gave you?"
"Yes," Vrun admitted, "But I wasn't sure if you knew. It's all very exciting here. Everything is so big, and strange. The planet is a dump, though. Those pictures don't really do it justice. The storms they have here, they just passed before I arrived, and everything is pretty wrecked. There are some plants and animals in the big cities, but the surface is dead. I want to see it all come back."
Ulls huffed out a big sigh, saying, "That'll take forever. Your replacement is doing fine, though, by the way. He hasn't had a lot to do. You were on one of the last Satellian ships to come to Sneed, did you know that?"
"Yeah," Vrun answered, "I found that out when I got here. Everybody was all crazy about some weird aliens that they seem to not like. I didn't see any alien ships, though. I think they left before my transport got here. I looked up a picture; they're weird little bipeds or something, I didn't get a good look. Oh, I found out that there are some Satellian foods that I can eat. They're pretty good, too. Weird, but good. Also, my breather stopped giving me that mouth rash, so that's good."
"Yeah, that's good. Hey, listen, I think I have to go," Ulls sounded distracted, more so than he usually did, "I think we're being attacked, and the defense coordinators need all the satellites for whatever. I'll call you back if we win."
With that, the connection cut and Vrun had no further idea of what was happening on Sneed. His current companion, whom he met on the trip there, was a young Satellian female named Aurumu, spoke up at this point. Vrun's translator package did it's best, allowing him to hear, "What's happening at home? Any good things?"
"No," he translator replied in a quirky, scratchy false-Satellian voice, "No good things. Sneed is attacked, I don't know why. I think those other bad-guys came over, probably. It won't end well. Where to should we eat dinner?"
--------------
Galactic Sector H/C - Sneed
Ulls clicked off the communicator, the machine spitting out a massive receipt that made his digestion churn and almost erupt. "Two hundred-thousand?" he asked the receipt helplessly, though it did not respond. He clicked on the television room to distract himself from the thought of his near-empty bank account.
"...a spectacular display of lights fills high Sneed orbit, and if it weren't so threatening, it would be beautiful. Some might say it is, anyway. The new satellite defense system isn't all we were promised it would be, and Stellar Defense Initiative Sub-Systems has already gone bankrupt in a sudden stock market plummet. Already, the Business Leaders are preparing for the worst and evacuating, under considerable public unrest, to their secure shelters hidden secretly in the mountains around Sneed. Having bought into the, as it turns out, false promises of SDISS and not prepared any contingency plan for defense, many businesses have sold off their assets, with business owners hoarding their wealth in the form of precious metals and high-end technical equipment hidden away in vaults. Aside from metallurgical and electronics companies doing well, the legal companies are also seeing an influx of business as personal and estate wills are revised and edited before, what many believe, is impending doom. ... We're getting reports now that the last few satellites are putting on a good show of effort, but it looks like the invader fleets barely have a scratch on them. We'll be offering live coverage of the impending bombardment and/or invasion after this br--"
Barraged with images of shiny new satellites blasting away at bizarre alien ships, as well as the casual reports of impending societal collapse and wide-spread death, left Ulls in a daze. He barely noticed that the signal cut out. Maybe the aliens weren't sure which satellites had guns on them, so they're taking them all out. Or, maybe they're just trying to bankrupt the communications and news companies. Either way, things didn't look good.
Ulls considered his options carefully, knowing without thinking that an accountant for a deep space observation and telemetry company had no business fighting against alien invaders, but the parts of his brain that identified him--for the most part--with a male aspect made him almost feel stubborn about this whole thing. Ulls wanted to help fight, maybe to show everyone that an accountant isn't just a middle-Snud, or maybe just because it would be exciting, he couldn't tell which. It would be exciting, though, wouldn't it? Ulls decided to dig around in his cellar for that old weapon from before the Sleep was hidden, from before he was alive even. It had been owned by his great-grandmother, used back in the days when wars still happened between Snuds. He read the label: "Maximum Boom Weaponry Corporation would like to introduce you to the 'Big Stick' rocket launcher. If you need to quickly destroy an armored vehicle, 'Big Stick' is right for you!"
Perfect.
Vrun had been on the Satellian home world for roughly two local days by the time he received a call from his mating partner.
"Vrun, hello," his partner Ulls said over the comm line, "How was the trip? Horrible?"
"Not so bad," Vrun answered, "Space travel isn't as uncomfortable as I thought it would have been. You should try it some time."
A sputtering noise came through the speaker, Vrun identifying it as a laugh. Ulls said, "Yeah, no, I won't. Not ever. I did that once before the Sleep, remember? I was sick for days!"
"We have pills for that now," he answered, "I didn't get that sick."
Ulls laughed again, the speakers crackling as a result, "Yeah, well, I'm not doing it. When are you coming back?"
"I haven't decided," Vrun said, "There's a lot of Satellian stuff to see here. It's pretty... big. I guess I didn't really know what to expect. Did you know that most of them live underground?"
"Yeah," Ulls replied, "Didn't you read the pamphlet I gave you?"
"Yes," Vrun admitted, "But I wasn't sure if you knew. It's all very exciting here. Everything is so big, and strange. The planet is a dump, though. Those pictures don't really do it justice. The storms they have here, they just passed before I arrived, and everything is pretty wrecked. There are some plants and animals in the big cities, but the surface is dead. I want to see it all come back."
Ulls huffed out a big sigh, saying, "That'll take forever. Your replacement is doing fine, though, by the way. He hasn't had a lot to do. You were on one of the last Satellian ships to come to Sneed, did you know that?"
"Yeah," Vrun answered, "I found that out when I got here. Everybody was all crazy about some weird aliens that they seem to not like. I didn't see any alien ships, though. I think they left before my transport got here. I looked up a picture; they're weird little bipeds or something, I didn't get a good look. Oh, I found out that there are some Satellian foods that I can eat. They're pretty good, too. Weird, but good. Also, my breather stopped giving me that mouth rash, so that's good."
"Yeah, that's good. Hey, listen, I think I have to go," Ulls sounded distracted, more so than he usually did, "I think we're being attacked, and the defense coordinators need all the satellites for whatever. I'll call you back if we win."
With that, the connection cut and Vrun had no further idea of what was happening on Sneed. His current companion, whom he met on the trip there, was a young Satellian female named Aurumu, spoke up at this point. Vrun's translator package did it's best, allowing him to hear, "What's happening at home? Any good things?"
"No," he translator replied in a quirky, scratchy false-Satellian voice, "No good things. Sneed is attacked, I don't know why. I think those other bad-guys came over, probably. It won't end well. Where to should we eat dinner?"
--------------
Galactic Sector H/C - Sneed
Ulls clicked off the communicator, the machine spitting out a massive receipt that made his digestion churn and almost erupt. "Two hundred-thousand?" he asked the receipt helplessly, though it did not respond. He clicked on the television room to distract himself from the thought of his near-empty bank account.
"...a spectacular display of lights fills high Sneed orbit, and if it weren't so threatening, it would be beautiful. Some might say it is, anyway. The new satellite defense system isn't all we were promised it would be, and Stellar Defense Initiative Sub-Systems has already gone bankrupt in a sudden stock market plummet. Already, the Business Leaders are preparing for the worst and evacuating, under considerable public unrest, to their secure shelters hidden secretly in the mountains around Sneed. Having bought into the, as it turns out, false promises of SDISS and not prepared any contingency plan for defense, many businesses have sold off their assets, with business owners hoarding their wealth in the form of precious metals and high-end technical equipment hidden away in vaults. Aside from metallurgical and electronics companies doing well, the legal companies are also seeing an influx of business as personal and estate wills are revised and edited before, what many believe, is impending doom. ... We're getting reports now that the last few satellites are putting on a good show of effort, but it looks like the invader fleets barely have a scratch on them. We'll be offering live coverage of the impending bombardment and/or invasion after this br--"
Barraged with images of shiny new satellites blasting away at bizarre alien ships, as well as the casual reports of impending societal collapse and wide-spread death, left Ulls in a daze. He barely noticed that the signal cut out. Maybe the aliens weren't sure which satellites had guns on them, so they're taking them all out. Or, maybe they're just trying to bankrupt the communications and news companies. Either way, things didn't look good.
Ulls considered his options carefully, knowing without thinking that an accountant for a deep space observation and telemetry company had no business fighting against alien invaders, but the parts of his brain that identified him--for the most part--with a male aspect made him almost feel stubborn about this whole thing. Ulls wanted to help fight, maybe to show everyone that an accountant isn't just a middle-Snud, or maybe just because it would be exciting, he couldn't tell which. It would be exciting, though, wouldn't it? Ulls decided to dig around in his cellar for that old weapon from before the Sleep was hidden, from before he was alive even. It had been owned by his great-grandmother, used back in the days when wars still happened between Snuds. He read the label: "Maximum Boom Weaponry Corporation would like to introduce you to the 'Big Stick' rocket launcher. If you need to quickly destroy an armored vehicle, 'Big Stick' is right for you!"
Perfect.
Bil
Prince of Space
Galactic Sector I/E - Thaej
“Greetings Lelinthian Fleet. Welcome to the Haedkhad System. You are guests on Thaej as we were guests on Lolan. We are interested in trade, diplomacy and interaction. Learn together with us, and may we have peace.”
The message ran by Uk almost too quickly for him to understand. He re-played it, and again, working through the finer accent points and quirks of pronunciation. He noticed a few details that stood out against what he already knew, a few new ways to pronounce certain sounds. Finally, he ran it through the translator. A few minutes later, while he waited for it to compile and he watched the work in progress, going through his exercises and trying to pick up a few new details that the computer knew and he didn't, he noticed that the Warden was sending the aliens a message.
He was happy to have the chance to see more Hlethans, and see their planet. Someone told him that parts of the world were purple, and that excited him immensely. Maybe he would get to land there, him and Warden, and maybe Duk and Li could come too, and they could all teach the Hlethans how to play stone-catch-roll. He started to day-dream about eating purple leaves and stems, wondering what they would taste like. Did they even have leaves and stems? Maybe they were some kind of pods, or vines! It was all a little too exciting.
Wait, he thought, Wait... Warden is sending a message? But I just got one... He noticed that the computer had finished compiling a few minutes prior and was waiting for him to transmit to Warden. With a panicked thought, he deleted the message, looked around, then looked up at the screen containing the camera. He tried to look pleased, which wasn't hard for a Culud, especially when trying to show it to a Warden. Uk loved Warden.
A deep sigh of relief passed out of his wide, flat mouth. He needed to pay more attention to what was going on. He wasn't used to all this "using computers" type of work. Cleaning a floor or fixing a water pipe, that was easy. Why was he chosen to talk to aliens, again? He searched his memory, trying to think of a time when he might have asked someone that question.
The memory appeared, one of him in the airlock with the five other fellows, about to board the alien ship. "Why were we chosen to talk to aliens, again?" he asked his fellows. "We're expendable," was the only answer he got, and he couldn't tell which one said it.
Uk got sad. It was okay, though, because he cheered up quickly once he remembered how far that initial expendable nature got him. He was now in charge of figuring out the best ways to talk to Hlethans. That was important, and very exciting. He was the only one who had any interest in it that also had experience with the aliens, which helped. He wondered what his family thought of his new promotion. Would they be proud? Maybe, maybe not. Uk made a note on his little arm-computer so that he would remember to ask them.
“Greetings Warden, I am Councillor Biri Ando, speaking on behalf of the Governing Council of the Thaej Alliance. We enjoy hearing of the Rhetho from additional sources, and repeat our earlier invitations to you, to be guests on Thaej as members of our species were guests on Lolan. It is our role to reciprocate your hospitality. ... Like yourselves, we desire peace. Beyond this, we seek trade, diplomacy, and mutual learning, if you are amenable to such things.”
The message filled his mind to capacity and he couldn't quite make out most of it, his knowledge of this Hlethan language failing him quite suddenly. He had the computer do the translating for him. It was a little faster this time, and the work it did allowed Uk to see several mistakes he was making when listening. He started to understand the gist of the message in its native form, though he certainly wouldn't have been able to on anything close to a conversational level. That is to say, had a Hlethan actually spoken these words directly to him, he would have likely whimpered and shrugged his shoulders in defeat.
Warden Lotholitel read the message in her tank, hearing the deadened-by-water voice coming through the speaker-like plates in the walls. She tapped at the screen, sending a message to Uk.
"What does it mean, 'repeat our once asking'?"
The dull yellow text hung in his vision for several seconds, even when he switched back to the Hlethan message. Uk didn't know the answer to that. Uk was a simple Culud, and had already forgotten about the first message. He looked up at the camera and offered, "Translator error? I don't know. Should I ask?"
Lotholitel sent back a simple 'no' and returned her attention to the message. Studying it several times more, she decided that she understood the translation well enough to proceed.
The flagship broke off from the small sub-fleet that had accompanied it to within a few hundred-thousand distance units from Thaej. The others would stay put, while she and her ship approached the home world of the Hlethans at last. Now, getting a good look at the world, she gazed at the images in wonder. The orbital structures, the small, flitting ships, the strange surface of the world, the images of magnetic tracks coursing through hills and bizarre cities. A single thought passed through her mind as she took in all the strange things on Thaej:
How could a lesser life-form build any of this? Maybe they inherited it.
“Greetings Lelinthian Fleet. Welcome to the Haedkhad System. You are guests on Thaej as we were guests on Lolan. We are interested in trade, diplomacy and interaction. Learn together with us, and may we have peace.”
The message ran by Uk almost too quickly for him to understand. He re-played it, and again, working through the finer accent points and quirks of pronunciation. He noticed a few details that stood out against what he already knew, a few new ways to pronounce certain sounds. Finally, he ran it through the translator. A few minutes later, while he waited for it to compile and he watched the work in progress, going through his exercises and trying to pick up a few new details that the computer knew and he didn't, he noticed that the Warden was sending the aliens a message.
He was happy to have the chance to see more Hlethans, and see their planet. Someone told him that parts of the world were purple, and that excited him immensely. Maybe he would get to land there, him and Warden, and maybe Duk and Li could come too, and they could all teach the Hlethans how to play stone-catch-roll. He started to day-dream about eating purple leaves and stems, wondering what they would taste like. Did they even have leaves and stems? Maybe they were some kind of pods, or vines! It was all a little too exciting.
Wait, he thought, Wait... Warden is sending a message? But I just got one... He noticed that the computer had finished compiling a few minutes prior and was waiting for him to transmit to Warden. With a panicked thought, he deleted the message, looked around, then looked up at the screen containing the camera. He tried to look pleased, which wasn't hard for a Culud, especially when trying to show it to a Warden. Uk loved Warden.
A deep sigh of relief passed out of his wide, flat mouth. He needed to pay more attention to what was going on. He wasn't used to all this "using computers" type of work. Cleaning a floor or fixing a water pipe, that was easy. Why was he chosen to talk to aliens, again? He searched his memory, trying to think of a time when he might have asked someone that question.
The memory appeared, one of him in the airlock with the five other fellows, about to board the alien ship. "Why were we chosen to talk to aliens, again?" he asked his fellows. "We're expendable," was the only answer he got, and he couldn't tell which one said it.
Uk got sad. It was okay, though, because he cheered up quickly once he remembered how far that initial expendable nature got him. He was now in charge of figuring out the best ways to talk to Hlethans. That was important, and very exciting. He was the only one who had any interest in it that also had experience with the aliens, which helped. He wondered what his family thought of his new promotion. Would they be proud? Maybe, maybe not. Uk made a note on his little arm-computer so that he would remember to ask them.
“Greetings Warden, I am Councillor Biri Ando, speaking on behalf of the Governing Council of the Thaej Alliance. We enjoy hearing of the Rhetho from additional sources, and repeat our earlier invitations to you, to be guests on Thaej as members of our species were guests on Lolan. It is our role to reciprocate your hospitality. ... Like yourselves, we desire peace. Beyond this, we seek trade, diplomacy, and mutual learning, if you are amenable to such things.”
The message filled his mind to capacity and he couldn't quite make out most of it, his knowledge of this Hlethan language failing him quite suddenly. He had the computer do the translating for him. It was a little faster this time, and the work it did allowed Uk to see several mistakes he was making when listening. He started to understand the gist of the message in its native form, though he certainly wouldn't have been able to on anything close to a conversational level. That is to say, had a Hlethan actually spoken these words directly to him, he would have likely whimpered and shrugged his shoulders in defeat.
Warden Lotholitel read the message in her tank, hearing the deadened-by-water voice coming through the speaker-like plates in the walls. She tapped at the screen, sending a message to Uk.
"What does it mean, 'repeat our once asking'?"
The dull yellow text hung in his vision for several seconds, even when he switched back to the Hlethan message. Uk didn't know the answer to that. Uk was a simple Culud, and had already forgotten about the first message. He looked up at the camera and offered, "Translator error? I don't know. Should I ask?"
Lotholitel sent back a simple 'no' and returned her attention to the message. Studying it several times more, she decided that she understood the translation well enough to proceed.
The flagship broke off from the small sub-fleet that had accompanied it to within a few hundred-thousand distance units from Thaej. The others would stay put, while she and her ship approached the home world of the Hlethans at last. Now, getting a good look at the world, she gazed at the images in wonder. The orbital structures, the small, flitting ships, the strange surface of the world, the images of magnetic tracks coursing through hills and bizarre cities. A single thought passed through her mind as she took in all the strange things on Thaej:
How could a lesser life-form build any of this? Maybe they inherited it.
Daftpanzer
canonically ambiguous
I like the look of the Lelinthian ships 
System IC/U 'Mar Aih'
A huge tumbling jagged composite object of technology and space-rock known as Special Asteroid Base #1 charted a long and mostly lonely orbit at the outer edge of the Jewel Ring, the belt of asteroids that divided the warm, interesting inner planets of the Home System from the deep-frozen outer reaches. Hardly used since the highpoint of anti-matter research, the station was now selected to host the most recent deposit from the Lelinthians.
A Standard Capsule was now docking in the main hangar; the Capsule was seemingly far too small for the giant gaping rectangular mouth which had opened to swallow it. Onboard were two Satellian specialists - one technical, one linguistical - and the alien artefact itself, currently shielded within an extra-heavy-duty cargo crate. That was not the limit of precautions, for indeed the station had been chosen for its remoteness, far enough away from the main inhabited worlds to alleviate fears, but not too far out as to be completely ridiculous. Twinkling, moving stars betrayed the existence of armed ships, ready and waiting in the distance.
The automated docking systems soon finished their noisy little ballet; the station's single resident, recently awoken from hibernation, was floating at the other end of the umbilical, ready to greet the new arrivals. He had a dramatic appearance, backlight with purple light - the reason for its purpleness, if there was one, was not immediately clear - and with an extraneous pair of robotic arms protruding from his back, the terminal digits of which were rotating and flexing from what might have been excitement or some kind of glitch...
'Communicate, then, shall we?'
-
Murrumue Ulunn lay on the sandy beach somewhere in the Mannjurrue coastal region of Hmmaiaa, gently lapped by the lazy waves of the Great South Polar Sea, antennae flexing in the breeze, his limbs outstretched in all directions, looking like he had been flattened by some great force from above. All around him, spiny orange-coloured plants blended into the red-pink sands on their way down to the sea.
go into the water
go into the water
He was surrounded by death; the decaying remains of thousands of Lesser Red Flick-Tails, small amphibious eel-like creatures with a single pair of strong claw-flippers. Some had died in the process of eating each other - something the males did to pass time while the pregnant females dug themselves deeper and deeper into the sand, never to resurface. The mating frenzy had ended many days ago now. The storms were overdue here in the south, but the season was already on record for the amount of electromagnetic disturbance; the recent departure of the Lelinthian fleet had set off another wave of brilliant auroras that were still swirling in the night's sky overhead.
go into the water
go into the water
Murrumue's therapist friend seemed pleased by his state of mind recently. Although, he hadn't quite got around to telling her about the voice in his head. It had strengthened with the arrival of the Lelinthian fleet. Now the alien ships were gone again, but the voice remained. Of course, he could feel much more than just a voice. His consciousness shifted again, some point after he crawled forward and allowed a cold wave to wash over him completely...
go into the water...
-
Days later and a huge swirling vortex of air, water and assorted debris was rampaging across one of the spaceports serving the Great Undercity. Needless to say no vessels had been left parked there - well, perhaps just one or two belonging to especially lazy owners. The great launch-tube was now all that protruded above several meters of freshly-deposited mud, sprinkled with bits of plants the mangled corpses of giant aquatic creatures, which were about to be stirred up again. Satellians could be accused of over-engineering things, but the launch tube's massively reinforced structure seemed justified in this case.
Hurnnunn, the Arbitrary Director of The Agreement, watched the scene in 3D on her palm-sphere, via a remote camera drone. Simple 2D pages were back in fashion, but she enjoyed having something big to hold in her hands, childish nostalgia perhaps. Sadly the image soon paused and stuck, the camera drone seemed to have died. It had lasted well - the storms were actually fading now. It had been a strange season, not quite as forecast. But then, the forecasts never were much good, Hurnnunn thought to herself. She noticed that a couple more of her fellows were ambling into the Grand Meeting Room. Time to address matters at hand.
With so many possibilities regarding new technical and industrial things, it was frustrating that their priority was once again finding a suitable response to Lelinthian and Geskani-related events - aliens that had shown every sign of psychological imbalance and great potential to cause harm; the news from Sneed was most troubling, especially for those involved in the trade mission, but the undeniable fact was that no Satellian-inhabited world had ever been attacked. The mobilisation against the recent Lelinthian incursion had ended with a big anti-climax. Many would have preferred getting to grips with this whole business of war, learning what worked and what didn't... Hurnnunn feared that all angst and insecurity would find some way of manifesting itself, no matter what happened. The universe seemed to work like that. Thoughts and feelings had power, constructive or destructive. She could only hope that the coming spring-swarms and the great spectacle of the homeworld's life renewing itself would help to change the mood.
'Honoured friends, might I suggest we send a delegation to Sneed to see if we can negotiate with these... occupiers, and bring food and medical supplies, and see if we can evacuate the few Satellians that may still be over there?'
Her colleagues seemed unenthused. Hurnnunn had only been half-listening to their discussion since the end of formal greetings. Perhaps she had lost the topic completely. In any case Harrumunn Rarr, the honourable Ulumm-Bukkian and notable armaments advocate, took the opportunity to reply.
'Comrades, let us not overlook the fate of Exploration Fleet #1 and its venerable crew at the hands of these Geskani. They are proven ignorant, hostile and territorial. I believe Sneed could just have easily been Hmmaiaa or Ulumm-Bukk. With respect, I believe the Arbitrary Director's suggestion would be fruitless, not to say reckless. And given the ongoing uncertainty regarding the Lelinthians, I believe our mobilisation should not halt, but instead continue at the fastest reasonable pace. I would like to propose further investment in our ability to resist violation.'
He was holding another data-cylinder. Here we go again, Hurnnunn thought to herself.
-
System IC/U 'Mar Aih'
A huge tumbling jagged composite object of technology and space-rock known as Special Asteroid Base #1 charted a long and mostly lonely orbit at the outer edge of the Jewel Ring, the belt of asteroids that divided the warm, interesting inner planets of the Home System from the deep-frozen outer reaches. Hardly used since the highpoint of anti-matter research, the station was now selected to host the most recent deposit from the Lelinthians.
A Standard Capsule was now docking in the main hangar; the Capsule was seemingly far too small for the giant gaping rectangular mouth which had opened to swallow it. Onboard were two Satellian specialists - one technical, one linguistical - and the alien artefact itself, currently shielded within an extra-heavy-duty cargo crate. That was not the limit of precautions, for indeed the station had been chosen for its remoteness, far enough away from the main inhabited worlds to alleviate fears, but not too far out as to be completely ridiculous. Twinkling, moving stars betrayed the existence of armed ships, ready and waiting in the distance.
The automated docking systems soon finished their noisy little ballet; the station's single resident, recently awoken from hibernation, was floating at the other end of the umbilical, ready to greet the new arrivals. He had a dramatic appearance, backlight with purple light - the reason for its purpleness, if there was one, was not immediately clear - and with an extraneous pair of robotic arms protruding from his back, the terminal digits of which were rotating and flexing from what might have been excitement or some kind of glitch...
'Communicate, then, shall we?'
-
Murrumue Ulunn lay on the sandy beach somewhere in the Mannjurrue coastal region of Hmmaiaa, gently lapped by the lazy waves of the Great South Polar Sea, antennae flexing in the breeze, his limbs outstretched in all directions, looking like he had been flattened by some great force from above. All around him, spiny orange-coloured plants blended into the red-pink sands on their way down to the sea.
go into the water
go into the water
He was surrounded by death; the decaying remains of thousands of Lesser Red Flick-Tails, small amphibious eel-like creatures with a single pair of strong claw-flippers. Some had died in the process of eating each other - something the males did to pass time while the pregnant females dug themselves deeper and deeper into the sand, never to resurface. The mating frenzy had ended many days ago now. The storms were overdue here in the south, but the season was already on record for the amount of electromagnetic disturbance; the recent departure of the Lelinthian fleet had set off another wave of brilliant auroras that were still swirling in the night's sky overhead.
go into the water
go into the water
Murrumue's therapist friend seemed pleased by his state of mind recently. Although, he hadn't quite got around to telling her about the voice in his head. It had strengthened with the arrival of the Lelinthian fleet. Now the alien ships were gone again, but the voice remained. Of course, he could feel much more than just a voice. His consciousness shifted again, some point after he crawled forward and allowed a cold wave to wash over him completely...
go into the water...
-
Days later and a huge swirling vortex of air, water and assorted debris was rampaging across one of the spaceports serving the Great Undercity. Needless to say no vessels had been left parked there - well, perhaps just one or two belonging to especially lazy owners. The great launch-tube was now all that protruded above several meters of freshly-deposited mud, sprinkled with bits of plants the mangled corpses of giant aquatic creatures, which were about to be stirred up again. Satellians could be accused of over-engineering things, but the launch tube's massively reinforced structure seemed justified in this case.
Hurnnunn, the Arbitrary Director of The Agreement, watched the scene in 3D on her palm-sphere, via a remote camera drone. Simple 2D pages were back in fashion, but she enjoyed having something big to hold in her hands, childish nostalgia perhaps. Sadly the image soon paused and stuck, the camera drone seemed to have died. It had lasted well - the storms were actually fading now. It had been a strange season, not quite as forecast. But then, the forecasts never were much good, Hurnnunn thought to herself. She noticed that a couple more of her fellows were ambling into the Grand Meeting Room. Time to address matters at hand.
With so many possibilities regarding new technical and industrial things, it was frustrating that their priority was once again finding a suitable response to Lelinthian and Geskani-related events - aliens that had shown every sign of psychological imbalance and great potential to cause harm; the news from Sneed was most troubling, especially for those involved in the trade mission, but the undeniable fact was that no Satellian-inhabited world had ever been attacked. The mobilisation against the recent Lelinthian incursion had ended with a big anti-climax. Many would have preferred getting to grips with this whole business of war, learning what worked and what didn't... Hurnnunn feared that all angst and insecurity would find some way of manifesting itself, no matter what happened. The universe seemed to work like that. Thoughts and feelings had power, constructive or destructive. She could only hope that the coming spring-swarms and the great spectacle of the homeworld's life renewing itself would help to change the mood.
'Honoured friends, might I suggest we send a delegation to Sneed to see if we can negotiate with these... occupiers, and bring food and medical supplies, and see if we can evacuate the few Satellians that may still be over there?'
Her colleagues seemed unenthused. Hurnnunn had only been half-listening to their discussion since the end of formal greetings. Perhaps she had lost the topic completely. In any case Harrumunn Rarr, the honourable Ulumm-Bukkian and notable armaments advocate, took the opportunity to reply.
'Comrades, let us not overlook the fate of Exploration Fleet #1 and its venerable crew at the hands of these Geskani. They are proven ignorant, hostile and territorial. I believe Sneed could just have easily been Hmmaiaa or Ulumm-Bukk. With respect, I believe the Arbitrary Director's suggestion would be fruitless, not to say reckless. And given the ongoing uncertainty regarding the Lelinthians, I believe our mobilisation should not halt, but instead continue at the fastest reasonable pace. I would like to propose further investment in our ability to resist violation.'
He was holding another data-cylinder. Here we go again, Hurnnunn thought to herself.
-
Daftpanzer
canonically ambiguous
System IC/D 'Urue Aih', Planet 'Ulann'
Arbitrator Huuraa had just finished talking to some of the exploration teams in the vicinity of the crashed capsule - or whatever it was - when his console lit up with a voice call from his comrade Gelunn, who was based at one of the other Shelters on the planet. Gelunn was a century younger than him, but just as excitable...
'We get signal!'
'What?'
'Aren't you getting this?'
Huuraa dialled up the comm/diagnostics menu on his console. It showed that a strong message, of some kind, though rather short, had just been received across half the available wavelengths. The pattern of reception indicated the message originated somewhere in orbit. Orbit!
'Yes... I see that's from space... Who of our tribe is in orbit right now?'
'No-one, that's the thing. The satellite-maintenance crew landed yesterday, and the two ships of the Outer Urue Kinship are cruising somewhere mid-system.'
'Yes that's right...' And the next Hmmaiaan ship wasn't due for another few days. Huuraa was feeling that wonderful combination of excitement and anxiety. 'Doesn't look like a data broadcast. Have you tried interpretation?'
'I ran some standard de-modulation, the best I got sounded like some of the native wildlife, when its being eaten alive. I'll keep working on it, but...'
'Ah, no conversion unit?'
'Yes.' The colony had received one of the most modern all-in-one translation-assistance units, but it had recently been cannibalised for parts. Huurra wondered if they had the software backed up somewhere, though these things tended to be very hardware-specific. Huurra was getting ever more slightly agitated.
'Well, the Lelinthians always talked to us in our own language. Could it be the Geskani?'
'Suppose. This could be very important, then.'
That wasn't good. Huuraa and Gelunn shared a silent moment of unseen discomfort-expression, raising their front limbs to protect their faces from intangible threat. They didn't like importance. That's why they were in this system. Huuraa decided not to dwell on that, but to keep his thoughts flowing. 'Better get in touch with the others. Scatter from the few structures that might attract unwelcome attention. Hide until we know what is happening.'
'I concur, provided we bravely stay on station.'
'Of course, for now. Ahah. Also... Lets try to get some telescopes on this thing? And, also, lets send a reply, in our own language. That seemed to work for the Lelinthians, eventually.'
There was a sudden flurry of signals, most of them automated, as all the Shelters on the network attempted to liase with each other and the various roaming parties scattered across the planet. Meanwhile two of the orbital comm satellites began broadcasting a wide-band reply in the general direction of the source of the mysterious signal. It was a basic amplitude-modulated message carrying the voice of the venerable Huurra himself, which was very slow and deliberate, even by Satellian standards.
'Guests of this world say hello to you. Who are you?'
-
The rivercraft nudged itself against the bank of Major River Main Section First Continent North #2, as it was imaginatively called by Agreed Cartography. Those venturing in the area simply called it the 'muddy' river, although right now it was choked with green-orange blooms of aquatic plants - which, like many of the planet's plants, were not actually plants at all, but amalgamations of primitive animals using symbiosis with photosynthesing microbes, amongst other things. All very fascinating. Nemaa Su Runn snapped herself out of her trance and used her middle limbs to haul the bags of equipment onto her back, ready to board.
The rivercraft looked more like a submarine. Like most of the 'infrastructure' on the planet, it had its origins as a spaceship module of some kind. Its smooth cylindrical shape was ideal for staying afloat, even when pounced on by giant amphibious predators. Propulsion was achieved by simply sucking in air and blowing it out under the waterline; propellers were easily snagged and made too much noise. It was a little slow, but all much easier than getting around by VTOL.
There wasn't much to see from the cramped window-less interior. A curving display screen took up part of the ceiling, showing random views captured by swivelling camera-mounts in the hull, which was reassuringly solid. Colourful crustaceous flying animals were dancing among the giant tangle-trunk plants lining both sides of the river - it looked like some were swooping down into the wake of the boat, catching small animals that were disturbed as the river's floating carpet was briefly sliced open. Observers always affect the observed, Nemaa mused to herself.
She took another look at the newcomers from Hmmaiaa. Youngsters like herself, already exhausted, and glad to be out of the jungle, even if their environment membranes were still crawling with bugs and optimistic parasites. Nemaa had caught herself being rather egotistical earlier. Her greater experience, and her potentially greater enthusiasm, did not make her a more capable being. She resolved to be more encouraging to her comrades.
The boat's pilot, or rather the autopilot-supervisor, informed them of a little detour. Apparently a rogue Capsule, or something, had crashed nearby. The thought of hostile aliens did occur, but didn't register much above their usual caution when out amongst the wildlife. About an hour later, one of Nemaa's comrades spotted something strange and airborne moving behind the trees.
At her insistence the boat stopped mid-stream, and she alighted via the roof hatch, which was not exactly wise. A menagerie of small amphibious creatures immediately began to probe this opening, perhaps considering it a huge floating carcass of some kind, ripe for the plundering. The rest of the team were left to deal with the invasion while Nemaa steadied herself on the slippery curving hull and tried to catch the aerial object with her telescopic eyepiece. After some fleeting glances, one of the exploratory drones of the Rhetho politely manoeuvred itself into full view.
'What the f**k is that?'
-
Arbitrator Huuraa had just finished talking to some of the exploration teams in the vicinity of the crashed capsule - or whatever it was - when his console lit up with a voice call from his comrade Gelunn, who was based at one of the other Shelters on the planet. Gelunn was a century younger than him, but just as excitable...
'We get signal!'
'What?'
'Aren't you getting this?'
Huuraa dialled up the comm/diagnostics menu on his console. It showed that a strong message, of some kind, though rather short, had just been received across half the available wavelengths. The pattern of reception indicated the message originated somewhere in orbit. Orbit!
'Yes... I see that's from space... Who of our tribe is in orbit right now?'
'No-one, that's the thing. The satellite-maintenance crew landed yesterday, and the two ships of the Outer Urue Kinship are cruising somewhere mid-system.'
'Yes that's right...' And the next Hmmaiaan ship wasn't due for another few days. Huuraa was feeling that wonderful combination of excitement and anxiety. 'Doesn't look like a data broadcast. Have you tried interpretation?'
'I ran some standard de-modulation, the best I got sounded like some of the native wildlife, when its being eaten alive. I'll keep working on it, but...'
'Ah, no conversion unit?'
'Yes.' The colony had received one of the most modern all-in-one translation-assistance units, but it had recently been cannibalised for parts. Huurra wondered if they had the software backed up somewhere, though these things tended to be very hardware-specific. Huurra was getting ever more slightly agitated.
'Well, the Lelinthians always talked to us in our own language. Could it be the Geskani?'
'Suppose. This could be very important, then.'
That wasn't good. Huuraa and Gelunn shared a silent moment of unseen discomfort-expression, raising their front limbs to protect their faces from intangible threat. They didn't like importance. That's why they were in this system. Huuraa decided not to dwell on that, but to keep his thoughts flowing. 'Better get in touch with the others. Scatter from the few structures that might attract unwelcome attention. Hide until we know what is happening.'
'I concur, provided we bravely stay on station.'
'Of course, for now. Ahah. Also... Lets try to get some telescopes on this thing? And, also, lets send a reply, in our own language. That seemed to work for the Lelinthians, eventually.'
There was a sudden flurry of signals, most of them automated, as all the Shelters on the network attempted to liase with each other and the various roaming parties scattered across the planet. Meanwhile two of the orbital comm satellites began broadcasting a wide-band reply in the general direction of the source of the mysterious signal. It was a basic amplitude-modulated message carrying the voice of the venerable Huurra himself, which was very slow and deliberate, even by Satellian standards.
'Guests of this world say hello to you. Who are you?'
-
The rivercraft nudged itself against the bank of Major River Main Section First Continent North #2, as it was imaginatively called by Agreed Cartography. Those venturing in the area simply called it the 'muddy' river, although right now it was choked with green-orange blooms of aquatic plants - which, like many of the planet's plants, were not actually plants at all, but amalgamations of primitive animals using symbiosis with photosynthesing microbes, amongst other things. All very fascinating. Nemaa Su Runn snapped herself out of her trance and used her middle limbs to haul the bags of equipment onto her back, ready to board.
The rivercraft looked more like a submarine. Like most of the 'infrastructure' on the planet, it had its origins as a spaceship module of some kind. Its smooth cylindrical shape was ideal for staying afloat, even when pounced on by giant amphibious predators. Propulsion was achieved by simply sucking in air and blowing it out under the waterline; propellers were easily snagged and made too much noise. It was a little slow, but all much easier than getting around by VTOL.
There wasn't much to see from the cramped window-less interior. A curving display screen took up part of the ceiling, showing random views captured by swivelling camera-mounts in the hull, which was reassuringly solid. Colourful crustaceous flying animals were dancing among the giant tangle-trunk plants lining both sides of the river - it looked like some were swooping down into the wake of the boat, catching small animals that were disturbed as the river's floating carpet was briefly sliced open. Observers always affect the observed, Nemaa mused to herself.
She took another look at the newcomers from Hmmaiaa. Youngsters like herself, already exhausted, and glad to be out of the jungle, even if their environment membranes were still crawling with bugs and optimistic parasites. Nemaa had caught herself being rather egotistical earlier. Her greater experience, and her potentially greater enthusiasm, did not make her a more capable being. She resolved to be more encouraging to her comrades.
The boat's pilot, or rather the autopilot-supervisor, informed them of a little detour. Apparently a rogue Capsule, or something, had crashed nearby. The thought of hostile aliens did occur, but didn't register much above their usual caution when out amongst the wildlife. About an hour later, one of Nemaa's comrades spotted something strange and airborne moving behind the trees.
At her insistence the boat stopped mid-stream, and she alighted via the roof hatch, which was not exactly wise. A menagerie of small amphibious creatures immediately began to probe this opening, perhaps considering it a huge floating carcass of some kind, ripe for the plundering. The rest of the team were left to deal with the invasion while Nemaa steadied herself on the slippery curving hull and tried to catch the aerial object with her telescopic eyepiece. After some fleeting glances, one of the exploratory drones of the Rhetho politely manoeuvred itself into full view.
'What the f**k is that?'
-
North King
blech
- Joined
- Jan 2, 2004
- Messages
- 18,165
Inthe let out a long breath as he looked over the display. Bright lights were almost always accompanied by audio updates, and every so often he closed his ponderous eyes just to listen. The information on the screen often wasnt important, and it was good to hear the hums and clicks of his fellow pohm as ships communicated over EM. The computer made only soothing tones as the ship scanned for obstructions or hostiles...
And a jarring beep. Ooh, that isnt good. He looked at the monitor, and saw a flashing light only 30,000 thousand-spans out, accompanied by a cool voice: Betik vessel detected.
That isnt good at all, he murmured, and reached over to pull the com channel lever. Captain.
What is it?
Betik carrier, 30,000 thousands out.
****. Captain Tuthe never really was one for protocol. Attention, all crew: incoming Betik vessel. Prepare for imminent combat. Pilots to the fighters.
Captain Tuthe was new to his job, one of the ten or so commanders who had been rapidly promoted in the rash of new warship construction, and he had all the nerviness of a new pack leader. He was on a rather massive regimen of anti-anxiety medications at the moment, actually he felt supremely calm as his neural uplink projected the scanner data into a corner of his forward vision field.
Betik carrier, the metal part of his brain told him. Firebird-class. 245.5 spans long, carrying 24 interceptors. Rather evenly matched with his own ship, actually. But hopefully it would not come to fighting. He pulled a lever to open communications.
Incoming Betik vessel. Be aware that you are entering space claimed by the Republic of Thun, with restricted navigation rights claimed exclusively by said Republic. Suggest you change course immediately.
Another voice rang back at him, with the characteristic breathiness of a heavy Betik accent. Said claim has not been recognized by any vote in the Qenim Concord. Exclusive orbital rights for the third moon of Denin have not been granted to any nation, be it Thun or Betik or otherwise. We are escorting a scientific research vessel to low orbit in order to conduct investigations of the lunar surface.
Regardless of the Concords votes, this volume is claimed as the exclusive territory of Thun and we are ready and willing to use extreme force to defend it. In truth, Tuthe was being a bit more jingoistic than he had been ordered to be. He didnt even feel a twinge of worry at the oncoming vessel.
A tone sounded to inform them the Betik vessel was within 20,000 thousand-lengths. He pulled a lever to restrict the communication to within the vessel. All fighters, launch when ready. Assume a defensive posture; form a basic ring around the carrier. He flicked it back to open broadcast. Seriously advise you stand down. Repeat, we are willing to use extreme force. The ship began to shudder as the fighters spun out into space, one by one.
Quite frankly, Inthe had no idea what his captain was thinking. Denin III lay below them, sure enough a barren ice-ball without even colony potential. They werent even supposed to be here more than a few moments; it was just part of a very long patrol path. It certainly wasnt worth potentially starting the next Great War over.
Were merely escorting a scientific vessel! There is no military intent in our approach whatsoever, the Betik commander said. He sounded slightly worried.
Military intent or no, you have not been granted navigational rights by any body.
Unbelievably, Inthe saw the Betik vessel slow and drop into a far orbit around the moon. It seemed to be waiting. Unfortunately, Tuthe saw it, too, and seemed to take some heart from it. An in-ship communication rang out: All ships, prepare an intercept course: angle up 30 degrees from Denin III. All ships, attack speed.
Look, Im EMing your own superiors in Denin orbit. Suggest you stop your approach while we find out what the hell is going on.
Suggest you leave orbit immediately.
Saints, you idiot, are you trying to start a war? The Betik commander seemed to have finally lost his patience.
Leave, now
Attention all ships, this is Thun local command. Thun ships are to stand down and report to Denin command station immediately. Repeat: stand down and report to the command station immediately.
Inthe whistled. Something tells me Tuthes in trouble, he murmured, as the Betik vessel passed them, a long, thin science ship flying alongside it. He heard the distant hum of the engines as they lifted out of one gravity well and dropped into planetary orbit. He glanced up, and whistled again: the oceans of Denin proper gleamed in a sudden sunset.
OOC: Nothing terribly special; the nations have been on a knife-edge ever since the Great War, and are simply carrying the old rivalries and tensions over into their new colony system.
And a jarring beep. Ooh, that isnt good. He looked at the monitor, and saw a flashing light only 30,000 thousand-spans out, accompanied by a cool voice: Betik vessel detected.
That isnt good at all, he murmured, and reached over to pull the com channel lever. Captain.
What is it?
Betik carrier, 30,000 thousands out.
****. Captain Tuthe never really was one for protocol. Attention, all crew: incoming Betik vessel. Prepare for imminent combat. Pilots to the fighters.
* * * * * * * * *
Captain Tuthe was new to his job, one of the ten or so commanders who had been rapidly promoted in the rash of new warship construction, and he had all the nerviness of a new pack leader. He was on a rather massive regimen of anti-anxiety medications at the moment, actually he felt supremely calm as his neural uplink projected the scanner data into a corner of his forward vision field.
Betik carrier, the metal part of his brain told him. Firebird-class. 245.5 spans long, carrying 24 interceptors. Rather evenly matched with his own ship, actually. But hopefully it would not come to fighting. He pulled a lever to open communications.
Incoming Betik vessel. Be aware that you are entering space claimed by the Republic of Thun, with restricted navigation rights claimed exclusively by said Republic. Suggest you change course immediately.
Another voice rang back at him, with the characteristic breathiness of a heavy Betik accent. Said claim has not been recognized by any vote in the Qenim Concord. Exclusive orbital rights for the third moon of Denin have not been granted to any nation, be it Thun or Betik or otherwise. We are escorting a scientific research vessel to low orbit in order to conduct investigations of the lunar surface.
Regardless of the Concords votes, this volume is claimed as the exclusive territory of Thun and we are ready and willing to use extreme force to defend it. In truth, Tuthe was being a bit more jingoistic than he had been ordered to be. He didnt even feel a twinge of worry at the oncoming vessel.
A tone sounded to inform them the Betik vessel was within 20,000 thousand-lengths. He pulled a lever to restrict the communication to within the vessel. All fighters, launch when ready. Assume a defensive posture; form a basic ring around the carrier. He flicked it back to open broadcast. Seriously advise you stand down. Repeat, we are willing to use extreme force. The ship began to shudder as the fighters spun out into space, one by one.
* * * * * * * * *
Quite frankly, Inthe had no idea what his captain was thinking. Denin III lay below them, sure enough a barren ice-ball without even colony potential. They werent even supposed to be here more than a few moments; it was just part of a very long patrol path. It certainly wasnt worth potentially starting the next Great War over.
Were merely escorting a scientific vessel! There is no military intent in our approach whatsoever, the Betik commander said. He sounded slightly worried.
Military intent or no, you have not been granted navigational rights by any body.
Unbelievably, Inthe saw the Betik vessel slow and drop into a far orbit around the moon. It seemed to be waiting. Unfortunately, Tuthe saw it, too, and seemed to take some heart from it. An in-ship communication rang out: All ships, prepare an intercept course: angle up 30 degrees from Denin III. All ships, attack speed.
Look, Im EMing your own superiors in Denin orbit. Suggest you stop your approach while we find out what the hell is going on.
Suggest you leave orbit immediately.
Saints, you idiot, are you trying to start a war? The Betik commander seemed to have finally lost his patience.
Leave, now
Attention all ships, this is Thun local command. Thun ships are to stand down and report to Denin command station immediately. Repeat: stand down and report to the command station immediately.
Inthe whistled. Something tells me Tuthes in trouble, he murmured, as the Betik vessel passed them, a long, thin science ship flying alongside it. He heard the distant hum of the engines as they lifted out of one gravity well and dropped into planetary orbit. He glanced up, and whistled again: the oceans of Denin proper gleamed in a sudden sunset.
OOC: Nothing terribly special; the nations have been on a knife-edge ever since the Great War, and are simply carrying the old rivalries and tensions over into their new colony system.
Reception
“Sam, I think we’re getting a response... playing it now.”
A noisy and bizarre sound perforated the Rhetho’s interior, its volume quickly being brought under control by Nahla. The crew listened in fascination as an extremely slow, humming sound gradually shifted pitches, vague voiced sounds sounding through some audio corruption. For several moments, the sound continued, before slowly coming to a close.
“I wish we had one of those Culud translation devices right now...” murmured Sam, “What would you suggest for a response?”
Lico Daeja clicked in amusement and attempted to imitate the sepulchral noise. Hlethan vocal capacities are uniquely unsuited for the replication of such noise unaided- while very skilled at creating fricative consonant noises and softly spoken vowels, they simply did not have the capacity to build up the sort of vibrations needed to replicate the noise. Mo chuckled slightly at his crewmate’s efforts.
“Might I suggest a video transmission?”
“Hmm, that didn’t go well for the Hraef.”
“Odds are that this is a completely different species... and at any rate, seeing as we can’t respond in their manner, we’ll just try in a different medium. Broadcast this in audio and standard-encoding video.”
“Yessir.”
Sam turned towards a small sensor above his console and gave it a small grin.
“Hello, I am Wahano Sam, a Hletho, and Captain of the Startraveler Rhetho.”
After Sam finished gesturing to himself and the crew around him, the video faded smoothly into a view from a Zir drone’s camera, slowly panning past the Hlethan ship, with the planet and one of its moons in sight.
“We are here with peaceful intent. We do not understand your language, but hope to open communications nonetheless.”
Following this was several pictures of Thaej, other Hletho, and various spaceships- all with Sam’s annotations. When this completed, Sam lowered his head in a polite gesture, then ended the transmission.
“Captain.” Stated Nahla, “One of our probes has found something interesting.
The crew huddled around and stared at the alien sight before them.
The Hlethan probe was nothing particularly fancy- just a collection of sensory devices crammed together, suspended by an extended balloon. It was a bright off white, only beginning to grow discoloured by exposure to the planet’s thick biosphere. Solar foil, spread all over its surface, would ideally keep it going for far longer than it would take its team to perform a preliminary survey of the planet.
Before it, its cameras focused on something anomalous in structure and content. Tiny thrusters directed it towards the object- a boat of some kind, slowly flowing down the viscous river. On the top was a bizarre creature, resembling at first some sort of hugely oversized insect- or perhaps a greatly shortened Haereth, a huge caterpillar-like creature that roamed the vast plains of Thaej.
The crew took direct control of the probe, bringing it closer to the alien. Trifocal camera eyes focused on the creature standing on the back of its strange machine. It stared right back.
“Sam, I think we’re getting a response... playing it now.”
A noisy and bizarre sound perforated the Rhetho’s interior, its volume quickly being brought under control by Nahla. The crew listened in fascination as an extremely slow, humming sound gradually shifted pitches, vague voiced sounds sounding through some audio corruption. For several moments, the sound continued, before slowly coming to a close.
“I wish we had one of those Culud translation devices right now...” murmured Sam, “What would you suggest for a response?”
Lico Daeja clicked in amusement and attempted to imitate the sepulchral noise. Hlethan vocal capacities are uniquely unsuited for the replication of such noise unaided- while very skilled at creating fricative consonant noises and softly spoken vowels, they simply did not have the capacity to build up the sort of vibrations needed to replicate the noise. Mo chuckled slightly at his crewmate’s efforts.
“Might I suggest a video transmission?”
“Hmm, that didn’t go well for the Hraef.”
“Odds are that this is a completely different species... and at any rate, seeing as we can’t respond in their manner, we’ll just try in a different medium. Broadcast this in audio and standard-encoding video.”
“Yessir.”
Sam turned towards a small sensor above his console and gave it a small grin.
“Hello, I am Wahano Sam, a Hletho, and Captain of the Startraveler Rhetho.”
After Sam finished gesturing to himself and the crew around him, the video faded smoothly into a view from a Zir drone’s camera, slowly panning past the Hlethan ship, with the planet and one of its moons in sight.
“We are here with peaceful intent. We do not understand your language, but hope to open communications nonetheless.”
Following this was several pictures of Thaej, other Hletho, and various spaceships- all with Sam’s annotations. When this completed, Sam lowered his head in a polite gesture, then ended the transmission.
“Captain.” Stated Nahla, “One of our probes has found something interesting.
The crew huddled around and stared at the alien sight before them.
The Hlethan probe was nothing particularly fancy- just a collection of sensory devices crammed together, suspended by an extended balloon. It was a bright off white, only beginning to grow discoloured by exposure to the planet’s thick biosphere. Solar foil, spread all over its surface, would ideally keep it going for far longer than it would take its team to perform a preliminary survey of the planet.
Before it, its cameras focused on something anomalous in structure and content. Tiny thrusters directed it towards the object- a boat of some kind, slowly flowing down the viscous river. On the top was a bizarre creature, resembling at first some sort of hugely oversized insect- or perhaps a greatly shortened Haereth, a huge caterpillar-like creature that roamed the vast plains of Thaej.
The crew took direct control of the probe, bringing it closer to the alien. Trifocal camera eyes focused on the creature standing on the back of its strange machine. It stared right back.
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