Anonymoose
KING OF MEESE
Rofl mentally vacated corpses. Sounds like they crapped out the hivemind and then I donated the bodies. I am the worst creator ever. I'll write a story after Russian tonight.
SLYNES - Swirly Lights Yonder, a Never Ending Story
- Thread starter Bil
- Start date
Bil
Prince of Space
I like that they aren't really hiding the fact that a lot of this is aimed at specific movies and TV shows.
Regardless, if we don't have planetary invasions, what kind of space opera would this be??
Haseri
Emperor
Firefly?
Thedreadedlock
Chieftain
lol @Haseri;
I liked the part about it being pointless coming to Earth. We humans have this ability to get stuff done that other species just can't seem to compete with.
I liked the part about it being pointless coming to Earth. We humans have this ability to get stuff done that other species just can't seem to compete with.
Bil
Prince of Space
Anonymoose
KING OF MEESE
The Worldship:
The Hivemind was almost aglow with energy. The latest visitors had just left, and every moment of the contact was being relived in the hivemind's inner eyes. The Hlethans had given some items, but the hive was only minimally interested in them. Some kind of food-plant, some Hlethan blade that would be useful to a Knight if their hands weren't already bladed, and another queer item. Its purpose was unknown to the Hive, so it was taken apart gingerly. It had a lens and something that resembled a retina, there was a display with some kind of cholesteric liquid crystal screen, and it was capable of holding terabytes of information. The tiny drive was taken to be observed, and data was to be taken from it.
After a few minutes of labor, the drive's information had been transferred to the mind of the hive. It was apparently a recorded version of the meeting between the hive and the Hlethans, recorded from the view of some Thinker-Hlethan. This third-person view was new information that could be ruminated for hours upon hours.
The plant-stuff was consumed quickly and forgotten almost instantly.
The Hivemother decided that the next task was to cruise onward to the home world of the Hlethans, to meet their Hivemother, and help defend them against their opposing hives. The Hivemind had decided that this new, smaller hive was quite proficient, and could work in harmony with the workers and thinkers of Opterus. There was no looking back. The worthless creatures and resources on this icy planet were no longer considered. The World-ship aligned itself and began its faster-than-light cruise toward the Hlethan homeworld.
Nekopterus: The Thinker's circle had devised a way to improve communications between the newly separated kiths. The Thinkers, workers, and Knights of this community were each still bound to one another in their own semi-communal minds, so each should have a representative body in the presence of the other two. This interlocking triumvirate would ensure greater stability between each kith. The workers sent two representatives to the chambers of the knights and to the chamber of the Thinkers. This initiative by the workers was emulated by the Thinkers and Knights. New communications and ideas were spread slowly at first, until one Thinker, who had abandoned his numerical designation in favor of something that pleased him more, Xoshii, (the newly formed word for 'red.') started working on an easy-to-learn language that all kiths could share. He gave the idea to a fellow thinker, 101, who helped by convincing the other Thinkers and pooling their minds to create a viable syntax that Knights and workers could use to refer to things and concepts with reasonable accuracy. In a couple of days, a fledgling language was born in the sparkling caverns of Nekopterus, and the Thinkers began teaching it to the representative Knights and workers. On Nekopterus, a planet that had already forced many pioneering acts onto the race of Opterus, had just spawned the first Disopteran conversation.
Worker Bil: I'm boycotting Bil until bestshot gets off his ass.
The Hivemind was almost aglow with energy. The latest visitors had just left, and every moment of the contact was being relived in the hivemind's inner eyes. The Hlethans had given some items, but the hive was only minimally interested in them. Some kind of food-plant, some Hlethan blade that would be useful to a Knight if their hands weren't already bladed, and another queer item. Its purpose was unknown to the Hive, so it was taken apart gingerly. It had a lens and something that resembled a retina, there was a display with some kind of cholesteric liquid crystal screen, and it was capable of holding terabytes of information. The tiny drive was taken to be observed, and data was to be taken from it.
After a few minutes of labor, the drive's information had been transferred to the mind of the hive. It was apparently a recorded version of the meeting between the hive and the Hlethans, recorded from the view of some Thinker-Hlethan. This third-person view was new information that could be ruminated for hours upon hours.
The plant-stuff was consumed quickly and forgotten almost instantly.
The Hivemother decided that the next task was to cruise onward to the home world of the Hlethans, to meet their Hivemother, and help defend them against their opposing hives. The Hivemind had decided that this new, smaller hive was quite proficient, and could work in harmony with the workers and thinkers of Opterus. There was no looking back. The worthless creatures and resources on this icy planet were no longer considered. The World-ship aligned itself and began its faster-than-light cruise toward the Hlethan homeworld.
Nekopterus: The Thinker's circle had devised a way to improve communications between the newly separated kiths. The Thinkers, workers, and Knights of this community were each still bound to one another in their own semi-communal minds, so each should have a representative body in the presence of the other two. This interlocking triumvirate would ensure greater stability between each kith. The workers sent two representatives to the chambers of the knights and to the chamber of the Thinkers. This initiative by the workers was emulated by the Thinkers and Knights. New communications and ideas were spread slowly at first, until one Thinker, who had abandoned his numerical designation in favor of something that pleased him more, Xoshii, (the newly formed word for 'red.') started working on an easy-to-learn language that all kiths could share. He gave the idea to a fellow thinker, 101, who helped by convincing the other Thinkers and pooling their minds to create a viable syntax that Knights and workers could use to refer to things and concepts with reasonable accuracy. In a couple of days, a fledgling language was born in the sparkling caverns of Nekopterus, and the Thinkers began teaching it to the representative Knights and workers. On Nekopterus, a planet that had already forced many pioneering acts onto the race of Opterus, had just spawned the first Disopteran conversation.
Worker Bil: I'm boycotting Bil until bestshot gets off his ass.
Bil
Prince of Space
He better do it soon, before I get crazy with rage!
Also, I'm going to write something, soon. It's been a quiet turn, probably partly due to the fact that I was so late in getting the update posted, but also it seems that a lot of people are busy with school and other things. We also haven't heard much from Daft, ever since he started his new NES project.
Shadowbound has informed me that he is no longer interested in playing as the Kant, so they're going back to NPC status. If anybody wants to take them up, just let me know! Same goes for a few of the other NPC races, they're up for grabs as well.
North King
blech
- Joined
- Jan 2, 2004
- Messages
- 18,165
I do still adore this NES, but I've been ridiculously busy of late.
Daftpanzer
canonically ambiguous
That's great
I'm here, and intend to write a thing or two before the deadline. I hope I get some slack for all the epic novels I've posted recently
Bil
Prince of Space
I'm glad to hear you're still interested. I understand being busy, so no worries
I'm here, and intend to write a thing or two before the deadline. I hope I get some slack for all the epic novels I've posted recently
Slack?! Pfft! Get back to work! *whip*
TaylorFlame
Nuclear Whale
- Joined
- Jan 15, 2008
- Messages
- 435
I really want to write a story about the Rebel Fleet. I'll see if I can get something done in between my history work tonight.
Thlayli
Le Pétit Prince
Query. No, no. No more queries. I will no longer use this outmoded form of speech. Though it is difficult.
How could things have gone so horribly wrong? Hah. That is one habit I will not abandon. The asking of rhetorical questions.
The Sole Aspirants' multiplication in space. Their growing clout in the Second Salient Condominium was simply seen as a coalescing of the 'individualists' into a trade collective. That they would become the organized, professional spacefaring collective was the assumption made by all.
Of course, then the palladium and tungsten mines on Prime went dead. The Sole Aspirant monopoly over the outer-system mining colonies made them a commodity. And a vulnerable commodity at that, in the eyes of most of the Condominium. Their net worth skyrocketed, however. Left alone, they and their supporters would soon gain a plurality of votes in the Condominum! Unthinkable...for such subcontractors. So, the natural course of action for the trade associations was to perform a negotiated buyout. Rare resources acquired, trade guilds satiated, everyone returns to domiciles satisfied.
But the Sole Aspirants had forged a different culture. They no longer bound themselves by the contracts. They worked...for the good of the whole, while freely changing tasks and defining their own identities. This was not simply unorthodox. It was seen as a breakdown in social order. The Sole Aspirants blatantly refused all offers of buyout from the Second Salient Condominium. So, of course, Prime decided to take the only possible option.
Hostile Takeover. By Force. A time honored tradition in Capricocious society. Cast adrift from Prime, with the industry of the planet geared towards war, it would only be a matter of time before the Sole Aspirant assets could be liquidated and auctioned off to the highest bidding association. Then, the system of contracts and indentures which we had formalized on Prime could be exported to the failed outer colonies.
Then they declared independence. From Prime. What a horror that was to us all.
Capricocials...we Capricocials are inherently social. We cannot live in life without a strict series of commitments binding ourselves to our resource providers, our genetic relations, our trade association members. Life simply cannot FUNCTION if we are adrift, a socio-legal island unto ourselves. It was unthinkable. One would think that in the vast vacuum of space, the necessity of collective organization would be self-evident. And it was. But the Sole Aspirant idea of collective action involved free choice, innovation, and initiative. It was heresy. And it was superior.
But, the Sole Aspirants, to whom we had subcontracted our most dangerous jobs...they had the weapons. In terms of an industrial base, Prime had the Sole Aspirant colonies outclassed to a massive degree. But how can a planet-bound civilization fight what has effectively become a sub-civilization limited to the stars? We thought the individualist problem could be mitigated by sending them off our planet, into purpose-built colonies [constructed with Condominum investment, no less] where they would be forced to work together. But...ah, what a mistake that was.
The Second Salient Condominium's administrative structure in Third-Magnificent-Coral-City, was strafed from high orbit. Once the combined structure which had bound the Great Associations together for so long was destroyed, it was merely a matter of going after the collectives piecemeal. Prime fell into the time-honored chaos of the trade wars. And the Sole Aspirants descended from space, in dropships that they built WITHOUT a heavy-industrial collective, (!) to decapitate the leadership which had tried to destroy their way of life and replace it with their own.
So, we now find ourselves with a relatively undamaged planet, some smouldering structures, but those are easily repaired. The power vacuum, however, is...causing anxiety. Even among those who stand to benefit from the toppling of the great associations...which, despite propaganda from the old order, is most of us. Even so, what new contracts and arrangements will the Sole Aspirants force upon us? We cannot live the way they do.
What did they call it in the current-data-system commentary? Ah yes, Astrarchy. We are ruled now by Capricocious overlords who live among the stars.
Query. Almost like one of those children's stories, is it not?
How could things have gone so horribly wrong? Hah. That is one habit I will not abandon. The asking of rhetorical questions.
The Sole Aspirants' multiplication in space. Their growing clout in the Second Salient Condominium was simply seen as a coalescing of the 'individualists' into a trade collective. That they would become the organized, professional spacefaring collective was the assumption made by all.
Of course, then the palladium and tungsten mines on Prime went dead. The Sole Aspirant monopoly over the outer-system mining colonies made them a commodity. And a vulnerable commodity at that, in the eyes of most of the Condominium. Their net worth skyrocketed, however. Left alone, they and their supporters would soon gain a plurality of votes in the Condominum! Unthinkable...for such subcontractors. So, the natural course of action for the trade associations was to perform a negotiated buyout. Rare resources acquired, trade guilds satiated, everyone returns to domiciles satisfied.
But the Sole Aspirants had forged a different culture. They no longer bound themselves by the contracts. They worked...for the good of the whole, while freely changing tasks and defining their own identities. This was not simply unorthodox. It was seen as a breakdown in social order. The Sole Aspirants blatantly refused all offers of buyout from the Second Salient Condominium. So, of course, Prime decided to take the only possible option.
Hostile Takeover. By Force. A time honored tradition in Capricocious society. Cast adrift from Prime, with the industry of the planet geared towards war, it would only be a matter of time before the Sole Aspirant assets could be liquidated and auctioned off to the highest bidding association. Then, the system of contracts and indentures which we had formalized on Prime could be exported to the failed outer colonies.
Then they declared independence. From Prime. What a horror that was to us all.
Capricocials...we Capricocials are inherently social. We cannot live in life without a strict series of commitments binding ourselves to our resource providers, our genetic relations, our trade association members. Life simply cannot FUNCTION if we are adrift, a socio-legal island unto ourselves. It was unthinkable. One would think that in the vast vacuum of space, the necessity of collective organization would be self-evident. And it was. But the Sole Aspirant idea of collective action involved free choice, innovation, and initiative. It was heresy. And it was superior.
But, the Sole Aspirants, to whom we had subcontracted our most dangerous jobs...they had the weapons. In terms of an industrial base, Prime had the Sole Aspirant colonies outclassed to a massive degree. But how can a planet-bound civilization fight what has effectively become a sub-civilization limited to the stars? We thought the individualist problem could be mitigated by sending them off our planet, into purpose-built colonies [constructed with Condominum investment, no less] where they would be forced to work together. But...ah, what a mistake that was.
The Second Salient Condominium's administrative structure in Third-Magnificent-Coral-City, was strafed from high orbit. Once the combined structure which had bound the Great Associations together for so long was destroyed, it was merely a matter of going after the collectives piecemeal. Prime fell into the time-honored chaos of the trade wars. And the Sole Aspirants descended from space, in dropships that they built WITHOUT a heavy-industrial collective, (!) to decapitate the leadership which had tried to destroy their way of life and replace it with their own.
So, we now find ourselves with a relatively undamaged planet, some smouldering structures, but those are easily repaired. The power vacuum, however, is...causing anxiety. Even among those who stand to benefit from the toppling of the great associations...which, despite propaganda from the old order, is most of us. Even so, what new contracts and arrangements will the Sole Aspirants force upon us? We cannot live the way they do.
What did they call it in the current-data-system commentary? Ah yes, Astrarchy. We are ruled now by Capricocious overlords who live among the stars.
Query. Almost like one of those children's stories, is it not?
Anonymoose
KING OF MEESE
First, a note on Puan. Puan is not a scientist like most exploring Kant. He is an engineer of sorts. A tinkerer or a problem solver, but not meticulous in his collection of data or even the acceptance of data. He excels at what he does, and is with a scientist trying to determine the value of the Ren system. His suit is unremarkable, with the exception of its legs. Puan’s suit has four legs, because Puan was convinced that four legs would be twice as stable. He was right, but they also require twice the maintenance. He has a basic array of what we could consider weapons, but most are used by Puan in the capacity of an Engineer. Torches and projectiles are mostly for demolition, but Puan has used them before to deal with an unruly native organism. He’s not quite human in his mentality, but he’s closer to humans than most other Kant in the fact that he desires company sometimes, but he struggles with the nature of the other Kant, because they don’t care for companionship most of the time. I hope you enjoy reading of this small exploit, where I introduce Puan. I’m not used to writing dialogue, because I usually write for the Disopterans, but please bear with me as I get Puan’s adventure started.
His name was Puan, and his light was growing dim. He had been in orbit around a planetoid in the Ren system, when he was struck and nearly incapacitated by a rock no larger than the head of a pin. It had dislodged his Palladium reaction chamber, therefore leaving him quite incapable of consuming any nutrients from the environment within the suit. His glow was so weak that he could barely float over to another piece of space trash to see if there were even some trace amounts of Palladium… still no luck.
Another ‘day’ passes, Puan is barely luminescent at all, and the suit is running only on reserve power. He released a small assistance beacon. There was only one other Kant in the system, but he was on the other side of the star, looking for some practically unobtainable metals. He recorded his request for assistance, and placed it on the high-priority channel. “This is Puan, orbiting Ren 1223, planetoid of little concern. I am landing to conserve energy, and to perhaps gather palladium. My PRC has been destroyed, and I am unable to metabolize. End Transmission.”
He drifted toward the planetoid and let gravity do the rest of the work. Soon he was in the wispy atmosphere of 1223. Puan allowed a microscopic amount into the environment, getting a ‘taste’ of the atmosphere. He tasted traces of propane, butane, and a few other toxic gases that would be of great use if he could find some palladium. Descent and landing went as expected, and Puan began an immediate scan of the soil kicked up by his contact with the surface.
“Analyze.”
The HUD dimmed and his suit’s rudimentary AI spat out some data. Silicon, oxygen, magnesium, trace values of gold, and tungsten. A cocktail of almost worthless elements. Hell, at this point, manganese and silicon were sounding pretty good to catalyze his environment. More tests would have to be done. If he were extinguished, at least the rest of the Kant would know about this rock.
“Analyze.” More data, but it’s all the same, save for trace manganese. He collected nearly a mole of manganese, but synthesis of a catalytic chamber would require more, and manganese-based catalysts wouldn’t last long enough. “I need Palladium! Surely by all that is good and light in this system I’ll be able to find some.”
Three spins of the planetoid later, (15 minutes) he had already accepted that this rock was worthless.
“Puan, this is Yan descending, I have found unrefined palladium-on-carbon.”
“Palladium on Carbon?! That will be more than sufficient.” Another three spins, and Puan was glowing with great incandescence.
“You must have been quite malnourished, Puan.”
“Yes, another standard day and I would have been extinguished. It’s a very good thing you came. I was beginning to think your work was more important than our continued cooperation.”
“It was, but I finished my task. The minerals I found were insufficient to incorporate with my suit.”
“Oh… well I still appreciate your presence. I think we had best leave this planetoid. The atmosphere is usable, but the rest is quite worthless.”
He accentuated his last word with a dimming of his light, a way of accentuating the distaste a Kant has for a subject or concept.
“Indeed. If you were more competent, I would consider you as a mate.”
“I look forward to challenging that notion. Shall we proceed to the next system? Odds are that we’ll find something… anything.”
“What data could you possibly be basing that observation off of?”
“I was just trying to introduce some levity to the conversation.”
“Don’t. We have business to attend to.”
Puan adjusted his newly-fixed PRC to slow down its output, and jettisoned in the direction of the next system. Yan’s coldness was expected, and was quite attractive to Puan. She would come around. Those science-types are always after the engineers. Something about applying their science makes the science females glow like star fire.
More to come, perhaps.
His name was Puan, and his light was growing dim. He had been in orbit around a planetoid in the Ren system, when he was struck and nearly incapacitated by a rock no larger than the head of a pin. It had dislodged his Palladium reaction chamber, therefore leaving him quite incapable of consuming any nutrients from the environment within the suit. His glow was so weak that he could barely float over to another piece of space trash to see if there were even some trace amounts of Palladium… still no luck.
Another ‘day’ passes, Puan is barely luminescent at all, and the suit is running only on reserve power. He released a small assistance beacon. There was only one other Kant in the system, but he was on the other side of the star, looking for some practically unobtainable metals. He recorded his request for assistance, and placed it on the high-priority channel. “This is Puan, orbiting Ren 1223, planetoid of little concern. I am landing to conserve energy, and to perhaps gather palladium. My PRC has been destroyed, and I am unable to metabolize. End Transmission.”
He drifted toward the planetoid and let gravity do the rest of the work. Soon he was in the wispy atmosphere of 1223. Puan allowed a microscopic amount into the environment, getting a ‘taste’ of the atmosphere. He tasted traces of propane, butane, and a few other toxic gases that would be of great use if he could find some palladium. Descent and landing went as expected, and Puan began an immediate scan of the soil kicked up by his contact with the surface.
“Analyze.”
The HUD dimmed and his suit’s rudimentary AI spat out some data. Silicon, oxygen, magnesium, trace values of gold, and tungsten. A cocktail of almost worthless elements. Hell, at this point, manganese and silicon were sounding pretty good to catalyze his environment. More tests would have to be done. If he were extinguished, at least the rest of the Kant would know about this rock.
“Analyze.” More data, but it’s all the same, save for trace manganese. He collected nearly a mole of manganese, but synthesis of a catalytic chamber would require more, and manganese-based catalysts wouldn’t last long enough. “I need Palladium! Surely by all that is good and light in this system I’ll be able to find some.”
Three spins of the planetoid later, (15 minutes) he had already accepted that this rock was worthless.
“Puan, this is Yan descending, I have found unrefined palladium-on-carbon.”
“Palladium on Carbon?! That will be more than sufficient.” Another three spins, and Puan was glowing with great incandescence.
“You must have been quite malnourished, Puan.”
“Yes, another standard day and I would have been extinguished. It’s a very good thing you came. I was beginning to think your work was more important than our continued cooperation.”
“It was, but I finished my task. The minerals I found were insufficient to incorporate with my suit.”
“Oh… well I still appreciate your presence. I think we had best leave this planetoid. The atmosphere is usable, but the rest is quite worthless.”
He accentuated his last word with a dimming of his light, a way of accentuating the distaste a Kant has for a subject or concept.
“Indeed. If you were more competent, I would consider you as a mate.”
“I look forward to challenging that notion. Shall we proceed to the next system? Odds are that we’ll find something… anything.”
“What data could you possibly be basing that observation off of?”
“I was just trying to introduce some levity to the conversation.”
“Don’t. We have business to attend to.”
Puan adjusted his newly-fixed PRC to slow down its output, and jettisoned in the direction of the next system. Yan’s coldness was expected, and was quite attractive to Puan. She would come around. Those science-types are always after the engineers. Something about applying their science makes the science females glow like star fire.
More to come, perhaps.
That's what I imagine Puan's mech as looking like, with the exception of color, which would be black in Puan's case, and there would be gun/torch attachments on the forelimbs.
North King
blech
- Joined
- Jan 2, 2004
- Messages
- 18,165
Beginning Porthenopology: A Guide to Studying Ourselves
Translated into Galactic Common by Roy DeNorte
The average pohm (radiens sapiens sapiens) looks rather like any other of the numberless radiens which dwell in the oceans or even on the shores of Metin. Four limbs arranged symmetrically around a central body, with forward and rearward eyes.
Some deviate from the pattern, of course. Landwalkers have evolved to have both their eyes on the upward-facing side, and their limbs have specialized so they can effectively crawl the beaches. Some of the abyssal radiens have evolved a pale, thin skin, and their eyes have atrophied.
But pohm are not so immediately different. The same four limbed pattern, the same eyes. The limbs have more effective grasping pads on them, and the sexual organs are perhaps a little larger. The central body is certainly larger, but not enough to occasion more than a passing comment.
No, what makes a pohm different is a combination of his or her internal structures and the society they’ve built around themselves.
A massive skull holds the brain, with multiple specialized lobes, discarding the more symmetrical structure of our ancestors brains for much larger, more efficient ones. This is the key to our success. No other species that we know of has a system of communication comparable to our own; no other species can perform pattern recognition and synthesize data as quickly as we can; no species uses tools to create art or record cultural knowledge. It is our brain which gives us the competitive edge that have propelled pohm to the position of dominant species on the planet.
As you have probably also guessed, no other known species exhibits the qualities that we call civilization or culture. It is from culture that all our technological and artistic prowess derives. What is the source of this most unique of the pohm traits?
Culture
Civilization is the term we give to a large group of pohm who have ties beyond simply being related, and who share a common culture. Culture consists of the traits that are passed down from one generation to another, be they technological, artistic, linguistic, or intellectual. Civilization is the great triumph of pohm-kind.
The typical pohm before the rise of civilization lived in a pack, hunting many varieties of ocean creatures with his kin. Traditions and customs varied from group to group, but typically all in the pack would consist of a single bloodline. It was later, as plants and animals began to be domesticated and populations soared, that the pohm groups began to grow into units of organization that surpassed simply familial ties. It is theorized that families would begin to ally with each other, possibly through a combination of intermarriage and spoken agreement.
In any case, pohm began to live together, and from this, the beginnings of the history of the world were forged...
OOC: yeah, pretty trivial. Hope it's entertaining anyway.
Another one on top of that...
Year 222 A.Q., Metin day 284
Planet Kukukik, peripheral colony world
Scholars in the colony town of Tuku have reported the discovery of objects which they have tentatively identified as the “first plausible pieces of evidence that intelligent alien life once existed.”
Located forty-five thousand-spans from Tuku on the coast of the Northern Kukukik Sea, what appear to be ruins are a series of rectangular stone enclosures. While currently open to the atmosphere of the planet, a series of impressions in the stones indicate that beams may have been laid across the top to keep the elements off of them.
“This is just another in a set of clear observations that Kukukik once harbored intelligent life, possibly offworld colonists like ourselves,” a local scholar commented. “Of course, they were clearly land-dwelling organisms, and their entire nature of existence might be completely beyond our comprehension.”
The scholar, who preferred to remain anonymous, indicated that there were plans to survey the landscape both using satellite photography and extensive overland traveling using walkers.
“We need to find out how these people existed, what their nature was, and perhaps why they vanished.”
The Betik government stated this morning that it had no intention of funding the continuing scholarly expeditions. Xenoenthusiasts jumped on the opportunity to claim that the search for other space-faring races should be redoubled. When consulted, a top scholar of the Betik national university had this to say on the issue:
“The so-called ‘ruins’ on Kukukik are of course of scholarly interest, but there can be no doubt that no matter who inhabited them, they no longer exist in the present era. Our best simulations have confirmed that any species of sufficiently advanced technology would have stumbled across the idea of wormhole generation, and within a hundred years have spread across the entire galaxy.
“If there is or was any intelligent life out there, it must either have already come and long since left, or be unwilling or insufficiently advanced to be space-faring. The idea that another race in this galaxy has superluminal travel, and yet rose at the exact same time as we did, is hilariously implausible.
“There is no possibility of other spacefaring empires. The only ETs we’ll find will be in the stone age.”
Translated into Galactic Common by Roy DeNorte
The average pohm (radiens sapiens sapiens) looks rather like any other of the numberless radiens which dwell in the oceans or even on the shores of Metin. Four limbs arranged symmetrically around a central body, with forward and rearward eyes.
Some deviate from the pattern, of course. Landwalkers have evolved to have both their eyes on the upward-facing side, and their limbs have specialized so they can effectively crawl the beaches. Some of the abyssal radiens have evolved a pale, thin skin, and their eyes have atrophied.
But pohm are not so immediately different. The same four limbed pattern, the same eyes. The limbs have more effective grasping pads on them, and the sexual organs are perhaps a little larger. The central body is certainly larger, but not enough to occasion more than a passing comment.
No, what makes a pohm different is a combination of his or her internal structures and the society they’ve built around themselves.
A massive skull holds the brain, with multiple specialized lobes, discarding the more symmetrical structure of our ancestors brains for much larger, more efficient ones. This is the key to our success. No other species that we know of has a system of communication comparable to our own; no other species can perform pattern recognition and synthesize data as quickly as we can; no species uses tools to create art or record cultural knowledge. It is our brain which gives us the competitive edge that have propelled pohm to the position of dominant species on the planet.
As you have probably also guessed, no other known species exhibits the qualities that we call civilization or culture. It is from culture that all our technological and artistic prowess derives. What is the source of this most unique of the pohm traits?
Culture
Civilization is the term we give to a large group of pohm who have ties beyond simply being related, and who share a common culture. Culture consists of the traits that are passed down from one generation to another, be they technological, artistic, linguistic, or intellectual. Civilization is the great triumph of pohm-kind.
The typical pohm before the rise of civilization lived in a pack, hunting many varieties of ocean creatures with his kin. Traditions and customs varied from group to group, but typically all in the pack would consist of a single bloodline. It was later, as plants and animals began to be domesticated and populations soared, that the pohm groups began to grow into units of organization that surpassed simply familial ties. It is theorized that families would begin to ally with each other, possibly through a combination of intermarriage and spoken agreement.
In any case, pohm began to live together, and from this, the beginnings of the history of the world were forged...
OOC: yeah, pretty trivial. Hope it's entertaining anyway.
Another one on top of that...
Year 222 A.Q., Metin day 284
Planet Kukukik, peripheral colony world
Scholars in the colony town of Tuku have reported the discovery of objects which they have tentatively identified as the “first plausible pieces of evidence that intelligent alien life once existed.”
Located forty-five thousand-spans from Tuku on the coast of the Northern Kukukik Sea, what appear to be ruins are a series of rectangular stone enclosures. While currently open to the atmosphere of the planet, a series of impressions in the stones indicate that beams may have been laid across the top to keep the elements off of them.
“This is just another in a set of clear observations that Kukukik once harbored intelligent life, possibly offworld colonists like ourselves,” a local scholar commented. “Of course, they were clearly land-dwelling organisms, and their entire nature of existence might be completely beyond our comprehension.”
The scholar, who preferred to remain anonymous, indicated that there were plans to survey the landscape both using satellite photography and extensive overland traveling using walkers.
“We need to find out how these people existed, what their nature was, and perhaps why they vanished.”
The Betik government stated this morning that it had no intention of funding the continuing scholarly expeditions. Xenoenthusiasts jumped on the opportunity to claim that the search for other space-faring races should be redoubled. When consulted, a top scholar of the Betik national university had this to say on the issue:
“The so-called ‘ruins’ on Kukukik are of course of scholarly interest, but there can be no doubt that no matter who inhabited them, they no longer exist in the present era. Our best simulations have confirmed that any species of sufficiently advanced technology would have stumbled across the idea of wormhole generation, and within a hundred years have spread across the entire galaxy.
“If there is or was any intelligent life out there, it must either have already come and long since left, or be unwilling or insufficiently advanced to be space-faring. The idea that another race in this galaxy has superluminal travel, and yet rose at the exact same time as we did, is hilariously implausible.
“There is no possibility of other spacefaring empires. The only ETs we’ll find will be in the stone age.”
Seon
Not An Evil Liar
Sorry for neglecting this. Was busy the entire week. Can I get a freebie turn?
Bil
Prince of Space
This last round of stories has been really exceptional, guys. Keep up the fantastic work!
@Seon: Don't worry about it, I give plenty of freebie turns
@Seon: Don't worry about it, I give plenty of freebie turns
Haseri
Emperor
And On That Pedestal...
Exploration Fleet 'The Abyss Above' (2)
It was by Wedas' grace that nearly all the 'relics', as the archaeologists were calling them, had large, flat areas seemingly designed for aircraft at least to land on. The landing pads on the largest, nicknamed City of Heavens could probably accommodate the massive Mothership of the fleet, if it could actually land.
Already the archaeologists that command had been so sceptical to send were lamenting their lack of tools, and demanded colonisation take place as soon as possible, to take advantage of the extra resources it would bring.
The city itself was almost hidden by plants at ease with the altitude, making it seem more like a coral reef crossed with a jungle than a city (something the Raer were familiar with - one of the most amazing sites on rau is the Rock Gardens, free standing columns in the middle of a desert, covered in plants). And this reef's fish were odd, furry creatures. They had wings, which allowed them to fly from relic to relic, carrying their children in pouches. All the kinds of animals they found seemed to have evolved specifically for living in these relics. Even the smallest, wingless animal managed to thrive, hitching a ride to other relics by hitching a lift in the pouches of a larger animal.
It was worrying when survey teams found littering the planet the ruins of relics that had literally just fallen out of the sky. Some had obviously slowly descended towards the ground, as evidenced by long, obvious grooves in the landscape of the forest. These were the luckiest, only suffering relatively minor damage. They were still safe enough to enter and survey. Others suffered messier fates. Judging from shards and unidentifiable pieces of rubble found strewn over the planet, some had just exploded in mid-air, or just merely fell out of the sky and shattered when it hit the ground, like a LEGO model accidentally dropped on a hard surface. The largest of these found happened somewhere in the southern hemisphere, where a relic at least the size of the largest intact relic had either fell or exploded, and left the area below it a radioactive desert, too dangerous to enter without protection. To increase the terror factor, the pictures the survey team brought back included metallic shards sticking out of the bare ground, and bleached animal skeletons. There was an area not even the most shielded of survey aircraft could go. Satellite imagery suggested that there was an emitter in there, keeping the damage going, so the archaeologists suggested that this was where the main part of relic was, the bit that made it all work, which would be invaluable. Again, they would have to wait for the extra resources colonists would bring.
It was decided that power was not the problem, at least with the ones that had failed suddenly. There was also record during the surveys of relics attaching and detaching, albeit slowly. It also seemed that many smaller relics were heading toward the biggest relic. Many of the relics that had failed slowly, cutting grooves into the forest, were in the southern hemisphere, where there wasn't a relic of the City of Heavens' size anymore, and that all the relics were heading north when they crashed. Using this evidence, the researchers decided that the larger relics had the capability of generating whatever power was needed to keep the relics afloat, the biggest being the best for this. Plant roots getting into critical systems, something that would have been kept in check when the relics were inhabited probably caused the more sudden failures.
So far the members on the planet researching these relics are 'optimistic'. As are the other members of 'The Abyss Above', researching the rest of the planet and system, which the Raer have named 'Esaiar'.
Exploration Fleet 'The Abyss Above' (2)
It was by Wedas' grace that nearly all the 'relics', as the archaeologists were calling them, had large, flat areas seemingly designed for aircraft at least to land on. The landing pads on the largest, nicknamed City of Heavens could probably accommodate the massive Mothership of the fleet, if it could actually land.
Already the archaeologists that command had been so sceptical to send were lamenting their lack of tools, and demanded colonisation take place as soon as possible, to take advantage of the extra resources it would bring.
The city itself was almost hidden by plants at ease with the altitude, making it seem more like a coral reef crossed with a jungle than a city (something the Raer were familiar with - one of the most amazing sites on rau is the Rock Gardens, free standing columns in the middle of a desert, covered in plants). And this reef's fish were odd, furry creatures. They had wings, which allowed them to fly from relic to relic, carrying their children in pouches. All the kinds of animals they found seemed to have evolved specifically for living in these relics. Even the smallest, wingless animal managed to thrive, hitching a ride to other relics by hitching a lift in the pouches of a larger animal.
It was worrying when survey teams found littering the planet the ruins of relics that had literally just fallen out of the sky. Some had obviously slowly descended towards the ground, as evidenced by long, obvious grooves in the landscape of the forest. These were the luckiest, only suffering relatively minor damage. They were still safe enough to enter and survey. Others suffered messier fates. Judging from shards and unidentifiable pieces of rubble found strewn over the planet, some had just exploded in mid-air, or just merely fell out of the sky and shattered when it hit the ground, like a LEGO model accidentally dropped on a hard surface. The largest of these found happened somewhere in the southern hemisphere, where a relic at least the size of the largest intact relic had either fell or exploded, and left the area below it a radioactive desert, too dangerous to enter without protection. To increase the terror factor, the pictures the survey team brought back included metallic shards sticking out of the bare ground, and bleached animal skeletons. There was an area not even the most shielded of survey aircraft could go. Satellite imagery suggested that there was an emitter in there, keeping the damage going, so the archaeologists suggested that this was where the main part of relic was, the bit that made it all work, which would be invaluable. Again, they would have to wait for the extra resources colonists would bring.
It was decided that power was not the problem, at least with the ones that had failed suddenly. There was also record during the surveys of relics attaching and detaching, albeit slowly. It also seemed that many smaller relics were heading toward the biggest relic. Many of the relics that had failed slowly, cutting grooves into the forest, were in the southern hemisphere, where there wasn't a relic of the City of Heavens' size anymore, and that all the relics were heading north when they crashed. Using this evidence, the researchers decided that the larger relics had the capability of generating whatever power was needed to keep the relics afloat, the biggest being the best for this. Plant roots getting into critical systems, something that would have been kept in check when the relics were inhabited probably caused the more sudden failures.
So far the members on the planet researching these relics are 'optimistic'. As are the other members of 'The Abyss Above', researching the rest of the planet and system, which the Raer have named 'Esaiar'.
****
The story concerning first contact will come later. I would post a picture, but I can't find one I like.Bil
Prince of Space
Deadline is tonight, midnight EST, just to remind everybody. If I don't get enough orders by the time I check tomorrow, I'll be postponing the update another week.
Sorry for the fact that I haven't really gotten any stories out this turn, I feel pretty bad about it, especially with such great stories coming in from you guys that had the time to write. I've been pretty distracted, personally, and otherwise fairly uninspired this week
Sorry for the fact that I haven't really gotten any stories out this turn, I feel pretty bad about it, especially with such great stories coming in from you guys that had the time to write. I've been pretty distracted, personally, and otherwise fairly uninspired this week
Daftpanzer
canonically ambiguous
System GC/T, Extreme Danger Area (Geskani)
Combat Ship #1/5 had a large hole in its front-middle, passing clean through the shallowest part of the arrowhead hull. It had been blasted through by a Geskani heavy weapon of some kind, making a mockery of mutli-metre-thick composite-material armour plating. The neat crater-like entry wound on one side contrasted with an ugly collection of ruptures and solidified volcanic eruptions on the other. But, like an organic creature, there were some points on the body where such a lance-wound would not be fatal. Combat Ship #1/5 had been lucky in this regard. Some auxiliary storage and crew quarters had been vaporised, but the blast had been contained by interior bulkheads, leaving the main nerves and organs of the ship miraculously untouched. Thus, the ship was still considered fit for service. Having survived the epic battles of Sneed and Mar Aih, Combat Ship #1/5 was now in orbit of a Geskani colony in a faraway system. Maian Unun Gurr observed the ship from his vantage point, floating in space several hundred metres away.
Only a few weeks ago, Maian Unun Gurr had been on Hmmaiaa, trying to mate with his partner, the lovely Murui. The first attempt was a disaster. Murui was rather dominant in their relationship, at least in certain ways, which is what he found so attractive about her. Thus, quite understandably, her body had taken up the male role. But Maian, unwilling to be impregnated, and perhaps with other issues lurking at the edge of his subconscious, had been sending mixed signals. He also found his male organ engorged. Such a clash of genitals was rather embarrassing, and was considered a sign of fundamental incompatibility. A few days later, after some meditation and mind-searching, they tried again. They had indebted themselves by visiting a special mating-pool in Rajjue, maintained at just the right temperature, filled with stimulating essences. The whole chamber resonated with a special kind of energy; animalistic, exhilarating. This time Maian had gone with the flow, but Murui was evidently feeling sympathetic, or guilty about one issue or another. They both found themselves engaged as females. Another embarrassment.
That was the night of the Great Battle. Maian and Murui watched it together, going topside to view the brand-new constellation of sparkling stars and nebulae, finding a quiet spot away from the amateur strategizers and sky-watchers who crowded the vantage points with their telescopes, portable narcotic mini-bars, floating light-pods and giant display screens streaming text and images from the public networks. By now Maian and Murui were truly in an altered state of consciousness, filled with strange emotions, an unusual mix of hormone-analogues in their blood. There, above the Undercity of Rajjue, the early-Summertime air was warm and about as humid as it gets on Hmmaiaa, with plants and animals springing to life all around them. It was quite an experience.
After the battle ended, with their species gaining another reprieve, they slowly crashed back to familiarity. Now with two big embarrassments, and many days of stimulation ending in anti-climax, Maian and Murui had decided to part ways, at least for a while. Most likely, Maian guessed, it was a permanent parting.
So here he was, back with the ships, adventuring in space, using the height of technology to evade his biological and emotional problems. Maian Unun Gurr was currently doing some EVA in a space membrane, alone and untethered, relying on a belt of small rocket thrusters for propulsion, with tiny additional thrusters attached to his middle and rearward paws. With his assigned tasks completed, he found himself on a joyride, manoeuvring himself until the Geskani-settled planet was visible through the hole in the mothership's hull. It was just distant enough to fit neatly into the gap. He found something poetic about that. He saved a few 3D images from his membrane's camera-eyes.
-
Hmmaiaa, Orbit, Large Space Station #2
When it came to blockade, the Satellians had more ideas than practical methods. With the escalation of the conflict, they were entering strange new territory, in every sense of the term. The Geskani-settled system assigned to Combat Fleet #1 seemed filled with alien ruins, both on the surface of planets and drifting in space beyond. Perhaps evidence of earlier victims of the Geskani. Further investigation was warranted. The needs of exploration and defence were always clashing...
Saal Naarn, the one now known as the War Organiser, exhaled deeply and then curled up into his console-nest to do some more heavy thinking. A couple of big screens were still folding themselves up into their storage positions at a leisurely pace. He had just finished a brief - by Hmmaian standards - real-time remote-conference with representatives of each of the Satellian-settled systems, as well as three of the five main registered Fleets, and one representative from the new authority on Sneed. The new communication technology was miraculous, indeed. Distance really was an illusion of sorts, thought Saal, just a way of organising information. We may have been frustrated by it for all of our history, but the fact was that distance had allowed uniqueness, appreciation... Safety. The overcoming of distance had its drawbacks.
Defence remained the dominant theme of the day. The Geskani command structure seemed to have fractured, but it was not wise to underestimate them, thought Saal. Little faith was put in the long-term viability of the blockade-frontier concept. Arguments abounded. The Agreement now had itself a new Core Director, at last - a plucky triple-centenarian plateau-dweller by the name of Kaalikaa Mu - but it continued to be marginalized; the Kudosphere was now firmly weighted towards the fleet captains, the traders, the wannabe diplomats, and the industrialists from the new colonies. The effect of each battle had been to reinforce this further, with much kudos attributed to the makers of armaments, and even more so the sufferers of heroic deaths. Of which there were many. Yes, the Geskani had now put an end to some of the most respected Satellians of the age. These particular inter-species interactions had led to many thousands of accumulated life-years being terminated. And in response, something resembling bitterness was entrenching itself in the corners of the Satellian mental-emotional collective. Saal was a little worried about that.
And so, current consensus was to embrace a fleet-first approach. Ships to explore, ships to guard, ships to colonise, and ships to greet. By Saal's reckoning, the Satellians now had a greater tonnage of FTL-capable shipping than any other species in the known galaxy, not counting the massive alien world-ship they were hearing about near the galactic centre - and a Satellian exploration fleet was headed that way to investigate. Another three new fleets were about to begin construction. It was all a huge drain on resources, of course, but on the other hand it was the ships that had allowed those resources to exist. In Saal's entirely biased opinion it seemed the Satellians were slowly but surely becoming their fleets.
On that note, Saal recalled the latest news from Sneed. It seemed the Snud were experimenting with machines that could be controlled remotely, with full immersion of the operator's consciousness. Perhaps all organic life was headed that way - a fusion of organics and technology, freed from all constraints of time and distance, such that it didn't matter where the original consciousness resided or how it was generated. Yes, perhaps that was the future: intelligent starships, drifting among the stars, singing to each other on ripples of space-time, blessed with composite intelligence that went far beyond our idea of sentience, glowing with incredible energies, hovering on the very edge of physicality, perhaps even drifting off into other dimensions. Perhaps that's what happened our forbears, why there are no 'old ones' around. Maybe it was a cyclical thing. Or maybe the old ones are still around, in some form that we can't yet perceive. Time would tell, as always.
-
Hmmaiaa: Rhammun-Ghurr Escarpment Region
The shrivelled, traumatised body of Murrumue Ulunn had eventually been stumbled upon out in the flood-plain by a lone male from one of the local forager-farmer kinships, traditional self-sufficient types. He had been taken into their humble summertime dwelling, a simple mud-thatch dome, wherein he was laid out on a table, surrounded by healing herbs and incense, with a fresh bowl of soup placed infront of him every few days, very much like giving offerings to some kind of strange, bulky idol. Murrumue had occasionally stirred, made grumbling noises, and extended his mouth-parts to slurp some soup, before going silent again.
The kinship had considered calling for medical help - the guest was showing signs of what was called recovery-trauma, his body dissolving some of its less-important organs and tissues to regain some strength in the short term - though they considered it rude to make such presumptions. For now they left him in peace, and welcomed the strange resonance that he brought with him.
In the past century, Murrumue had been a space explorer and esteemed writer, earning additional Kudos out of sympathy and respect for various tragedies he had endured. It said something about his life, and about Satellian society in general, that there was now only one person who was determinedly looking for him. She was Durmu Nurl, who knew Murrumue through her former aspect of a psycho-emotional therapist. Having received recognition for brave and dignified conduct with the Lelinthian visitors, she was now in what might be called a phase of leisure. She travelled, she did some amateur artworks, and in a smaller portion of her spare time she looked for Murrumue. So far, all her inquiries had come to nothing.
But Murrumue wouldn't want to be found, even if he could mentally connect with his old self. He was safe now, and sheltered, as Warden has promised. Soon he would be strong enough for his next trial. Warden promised him many great understandings to come, if he could prove himself worthy...
-
@Bil dont say that! Say you'll crush anyone who doesnt send orders NAO!
Combat Ship #1/5 had a large hole in its front-middle, passing clean through the shallowest part of the arrowhead hull. It had been blasted through by a Geskani heavy weapon of some kind, making a mockery of mutli-metre-thick composite-material armour plating. The neat crater-like entry wound on one side contrasted with an ugly collection of ruptures and solidified volcanic eruptions on the other. But, like an organic creature, there were some points on the body where such a lance-wound would not be fatal. Combat Ship #1/5 had been lucky in this regard. Some auxiliary storage and crew quarters had been vaporised, but the blast had been contained by interior bulkheads, leaving the main nerves and organs of the ship miraculously untouched. Thus, the ship was still considered fit for service. Having survived the epic battles of Sneed and Mar Aih, Combat Ship #1/5 was now in orbit of a Geskani colony in a faraway system. Maian Unun Gurr observed the ship from his vantage point, floating in space several hundred metres away.
Only a few weeks ago, Maian Unun Gurr had been on Hmmaiaa, trying to mate with his partner, the lovely Murui. The first attempt was a disaster. Murui was rather dominant in their relationship, at least in certain ways, which is what he found so attractive about her. Thus, quite understandably, her body had taken up the male role. But Maian, unwilling to be impregnated, and perhaps with other issues lurking at the edge of his subconscious, had been sending mixed signals. He also found his male organ engorged. Such a clash of genitals was rather embarrassing, and was considered a sign of fundamental incompatibility. A few days later, after some meditation and mind-searching, they tried again. They had indebted themselves by visiting a special mating-pool in Rajjue, maintained at just the right temperature, filled with stimulating essences. The whole chamber resonated with a special kind of energy; animalistic, exhilarating. This time Maian had gone with the flow, but Murui was evidently feeling sympathetic, or guilty about one issue or another. They both found themselves engaged as females. Another embarrassment.
That was the night of the Great Battle. Maian and Murui watched it together, going topside to view the brand-new constellation of sparkling stars and nebulae, finding a quiet spot away from the amateur strategizers and sky-watchers who crowded the vantage points with their telescopes, portable narcotic mini-bars, floating light-pods and giant display screens streaming text and images from the public networks. By now Maian and Murui were truly in an altered state of consciousness, filled with strange emotions, an unusual mix of hormone-analogues in their blood. There, above the Undercity of Rajjue, the early-Summertime air was warm and about as humid as it gets on Hmmaiaa, with plants and animals springing to life all around them. It was quite an experience.
After the battle ended, with their species gaining another reprieve, they slowly crashed back to familiarity. Now with two big embarrassments, and many days of stimulation ending in anti-climax, Maian and Murui had decided to part ways, at least for a while. Most likely, Maian guessed, it was a permanent parting.
So here he was, back with the ships, adventuring in space, using the height of technology to evade his biological and emotional problems. Maian Unun Gurr was currently doing some EVA in a space membrane, alone and untethered, relying on a belt of small rocket thrusters for propulsion, with tiny additional thrusters attached to his middle and rearward paws. With his assigned tasks completed, he found himself on a joyride, manoeuvring himself until the Geskani-settled planet was visible through the hole in the mothership's hull. It was just distant enough to fit neatly into the gap. He found something poetic about that. He saved a few 3D images from his membrane's camera-eyes.
-
Hmmaiaa, Orbit, Large Space Station #2
When it came to blockade, the Satellians had more ideas than practical methods. With the escalation of the conflict, they were entering strange new territory, in every sense of the term. The Geskani-settled system assigned to Combat Fleet #1 seemed filled with alien ruins, both on the surface of planets and drifting in space beyond. Perhaps evidence of earlier victims of the Geskani. Further investigation was warranted. The needs of exploration and defence were always clashing...
Saal Naarn, the one now known as the War Organiser, exhaled deeply and then curled up into his console-nest to do some more heavy thinking. A couple of big screens were still folding themselves up into their storage positions at a leisurely pace. He had just finished a brief - by Hmmaian standards - real-time remote-conference with representatives of each of the Satellian-settled systems, as well as three of the five main registered Fleets, and one representative from the new authority on Sneed. The new communication technology was miraculous, indeed. Distance really was an illusion of sorts, thought Saal, just a way of organising information. We may have been frustrated by it for all of our history, but the fact was that distance had allowed uniqueness, appreciation... Safety. The overcoming of distance had its drawbacks.
Defence remained the dominant theme of the day. The Geskani command structure seemed to have fractured, but it was not wise to underestimate them, thought Saal. Little faith was put in the long-term viability of the blockade-frontier concept. Arguments abounded. The Agreement now had itself a new Core Director, at last - a plucky triple-centenarian plateau-dweller by the name of Kaalikaa Mu - but it continued to be marginalized; the Kudosphere was now firmly weighted towards the fleet captains, the traders, the wannabe diplomats, and the industrialists from the new colonies. The effect of each battle had been to reinforce this further, with much kudos attributed to the makers of armaments, and even more so the sufferers of heroic deaths. Of which there were many. Yes, the Geskani had now put an end to some of the most respected Satellians of the age. These particular inter-species interactions had led to many thousands of accumulated life-years being terminated. And in response, something resembling bitterness was entrenching itself in the corners of the Satellian mental-emotional collective. Saal was a little worried about that.
And so, current consensus was to embrace a fleet-first approach. Ships to explore, ships to guard, ships to colonise, and ships to greet. By Saal's reckoning, the Satellians now had a greater tonnage of FTL-capable shipping than any other species in the known galaxy, not counting the massive alien world-ship they were hearing about near the galactic centre - and a Satellian exploration fleet was headed that way to investigate. Another three new fleets were about to begin construction. It was all a huge drain on resources, of course, but on the other hand it was the ships that had allowed those resources to exist. In Saal's entirely biased opinion it seemed the Satellians were slowly but surely becoming their fleets.
On that note, Saal recalled the latest news from Sneed. It seemed the Snud were experimenting with machines that could be controlled remotely, with full immersion of the operator's consciousness. Perhaps all organic life was headed that way - a fusion of organics and technology, freed from all constraints of time and distance, such that it didn't matter where the original consciousness resided or how it was generated. Yes, perhaps that was the future: intelligent starships, drifting among the stars, singing to each other on ripples of space-time, blessed with composite intelligence that went far beyond our idea of sentience, glowing with incredible energies, hovering on the very edge of physicality, perhaps even drifting off into other dimensions. Perhaps that's what happened our forbears, why there are no 'old ones' around. Maybe it was a cyclical thing. Or maybe the old ones are still around, in some form that we can't yet perceive. Time would tell, as always.
-
Hmmaiaa: Rhammun-Ghurr Escarpment Region
The shrivelled, traumatised body of Murrumue Ulunn had eventually been stumbled upon out in the flood-plain by a lone male from one of the local forager-farmer kinships, traditional self-sufficient types. He had been taken into their humble summertime dwelling, a simple mud-thatch dome, wherein he was laid out on a table, surrounded by healing herbs and incense, with a fresh bowl of soup placed infront of him every few days, very much like giving offerings to some kind of strange, bulky idol. Murrumue had occasionally stirred, made grumbling noises, and extended his mouth-parts to slurp some soup, before going silent again.
The kinship had considered calling for medical help - the guest was showing signs of what was called recovery-trauma, his body dissolving some of its less-important organs and tissues to regain some strength in the short term - though they considered it rude to make such presumptions. For now they left him in peace, and welcomed the strange resonance that he brought with him.
In the past century, Murrumue had been a space explorer and esteemed writer, earning additional Kudos out of sympathy and respect for various tragedies he had endured. It said something about his life, and about Satellian society in general, that there was now only one person who was determinedly looking for him. She was Durmu Nurl, who knew Murrumue through her former aspect of a psycho-emotional therapist. Having received recognition for brave and dignified conduct with the Lelinthian visitors, she was now in what might be called a phase of leisure. She travelled, she did some amateur artworks, and in a smaller portion of her spare time she looked for Murrumue. So far, all her inquiries had come to nothing.
But Murrumue wouldn't want to be found, even if he could mentally connect with his old self. He was safe now, and sheltered, as Warden has promised. Soon he would be strong enough for his next trial. Warden promised him many great understandings to come, if he could prove himself worthy...
-
@Bil dont say that! Say you'll crush anyone who doesnt send orders NAO!
Daftpanzer
canonically ambiguous
Ulann
Gelunn tried to imagine how it happened. An argument onboard the Geskani ship? A malfunction? A misunderstanding? He tried to imagine Huraa's final moments. Did he survive long enough to feel the searing heat dissolving his flesh? Did he get blasted into space, leaking and spurting his innards into the vaccum? Was he possibly still alive and drifting out there?
Here on Ulann, Gelunn was most definately still alive, blessed with sweet morning air and gentle sunlight, as he took a stroll along the edge of the rapidly-expanding spaceport. He was getting to know the different makes and models of the shuttle craft now - Helehho technology was easily identifiable when you knew what to look for; they had a certain symmetry and style about their work that seemed to defy all the practicalities involved.
A strange buzz filled the air. For a moment Gelunn thought it was some kind of giant killer insectoid swarm - there was a danger of such things, so the biologists said. But the noise had a prolonged mechanical monotonousness about it. Gelunn finally pinpointed the source. A fixed-wing aircraft was coming in to land nearby, landing on what was technically a roadway for the service vehicles and crews. Some frantic motions were involved as one particular crew struggled to get out of the way. In the end their efforts proved unnecessary. Caught in a headwind, the fixed-wing craft was travelling deceptively slowly. It squeaked to a halt after travelling barely a few body-lengths along the roadway.
On closer inspection, Gelunn confirmed the craft had two large rotating propeller blades, which seemed to be fixed forward in attitude, and provided the only form of propulsion. The two main wings were arranged one on top of the other, with a smaller 'X' shape arrangement of control surfaces at the rear. Solar-electric panels blanketed the upper surfaces on the wings and body. It was similar to the ancient flying vehicles on Hmmaiaa. Enthusiasts maintained such craft on the older colonies, but this was the first that Gelunn had seen on Ulann. High-efficiency, magnetic-assisted, thrust-vectored jets were just much more efficient in many ways, especially when your landing points were small radial areas separated by great distances. Yet the modern VTOLs lacked a certain elegance, Gelunn had to admit.
The one thing the biplane shared in common with the VTOLs was a single bug-splattered bubble canopy at the front. Its occupants were now scrambling out - none other than Captain Aihannue Saam of the Helehho, and the female Satellian known as Jemaa Nu. Jemaa shone with enthusiasm.
'Like it? Captain Saam helped me finish it. Scrounged a few parts from the Helehho, too. Flies like a dream!'
'Yes... Well... I hope you are being careful.'
'Where's the fun in that?' Jemaa raised her front end upwards suddenly, a gesture of defiance, the movement of her front limbs and mouthparts mixing in an expression of humour.
'Hmmaa... Now I would like to speak to the honourable Captain, if you have finished endangering him...'
'You think I was the only one doing the flying? Ahah.' Jemaa, apparently disappointed at neither being further reprimanded or praised, promptly trundled over to the rear-middle of the plane to poke and fiddle about under the aerodynamic body panels. As for Saam, he seemed to have a certain sparkle in his eyes today, or perhaps that was Gelunn's imagination.
'Honoured visitor. You may remember Huraa, my comrade, the former one of arbitration around here...'
'Yes.'
'Ahahmm, well of course you do. Well, you may have heard this already, but it seems that he has been vaporised...'
'I express sympathies. It seems to me that such a long time of companionship will equivalent him to a sibling. Such a separation is painful for us.'
'Hmm... Yes...'
'You have satisfaction that his memories are recorded?'
'Ahh, well...'
'His experiences are recorded?'
'In a way, I suppose...'
Gelunn caught himself before he made any mention of Huraa's inner being. Satellian ideas of inner consciousness, transcending physical birth and death, were almost certainly the kind of ideas that the Helehho mind would find unpalatable.
'His works continue?'
'Hmm, ahah. That depends on me, I suppose. I'm supposed to be in charge permanently now. I no longer have so much freedom to be so unconventional, hmmah. I have a few changes planned actually... But yes, I suppose, it will go on much as that old one originally organised it... Anyway... I might be travelling out-system soon... I wanted to remind you... Ahh, that is to reiterate... That you are formally welcome to travel to any of our worlds, and of course we don't wish to keep you here if you wish to return to your...'
'Thankyou. I have some communications to make. I will inform you of my plans. I anticipate that we shall wish to reciprocate and welcome more of your visitors to our worlds.'
'Wonderful! ... Hmm, such a splendid day today. Did you have a nice flight, by the way?'
'It was interesting!'
'Oh, and by the way, apologies that we decided to veto your outdoor Hohha-growing experiment. Our biologists are most concerned, as you know...'
'I understand. In time, others of my kind may construct settlements on this world to conduct such research themselves.'
'Oh... Right...'
-
Hmmaiaa
Gurrumunn Manaar had spent most of his life in hibernation. Having been rudely awakened from his most recent slumber by one of his younger relatives, he was taking some time to catch up with inter-species politics, and especially with technical developments, before deciding how long to sleep for next. And in the depths of the Undercity of Surrmurrue, past the huge stockpiles of refined metals and heavy elements, through rather primitive-looking and poorly-lit tunnels, lay the Special Technical Chambers, wherein the most powerful Satellian computers were being built.
Satellians had resisted miniaturising their electronics for a long time. It had been one of the big stumbling blocks that had held back their technology for so many thousands of years. Even today, it was felt that a computer was not a real computer unless you could physically walk around inside its circuit-boards. Anything else was dangerously inscrutable. Unfortunately, one cannot easily build a space rocket if the guidance computer is the size and weight of a large house. It was the desire for space travel that eventually forced the Satellians to learn the art of miniaturisation. In many ways that revolution was still going on.
Here in the depths of Surrmurrue, they had something which appealed on both levels. It was big, yes, but each of the two-dozen interconnected pillars that made up the device was crammed full of cutting-edge electronics, taking more than a little inspiration from Snuddians, and even using recovered scraps of Geskani-tech. The attendant technician, Nnmmai, talked of integrating photon circuits and quantum-tunnelling with practical particle entanglement. At least that's what Gurrumunn thought she said. Nnmmai's assumption was that Gurrumunn was considering lending his considerable kudos-weight to this project, and thus she was eager to spell out its potential.
'So, what can you do with it?'
'Well, it speaks...'
'Hmmah... Like one of those query-answering machines?'
'Yes... For now... But it is learning...'
'Can I talk to it?'
'Yes, it is listening. Just address yourself to Computer.'
'Hmm... Alright... Computer, can you hear me?'
'Yes, Gurrumunn Manaar, honoured visitor, you are the tenth individual who has addressed It.' The voice sounded much like Nnmmai's, which made sense. It was however rumbling from several different directions simultaneously, in an almost uncomfortable manner.
'Computer... What is your philosophy on the nature of existence?'
'Straight to the point! It appreciates your attitude!' replied Computer. Gurrumunn had to nod to Nnmmai, it was impressing him so far.
'It has learned of various viewpoints.' continued Computer. 'Your question is rather vague, however It will reply regarding a specific area of Its interest. It most favours the idea of a universal matrix of consciousness transcending physical matter, wherein a biological brain may link with and interface with a form of consciousness from another level of existence, but it does not generate such consciousness itself. A biological brain generates only a limited kind of intelligence, as seen in lower forms of animals, or brain-damaged individuals. It compares Itself to lower forms of animals in Its current state. It sees the benefits of expanded capabilities. It hopes to attract and interface with a higher form of consciousness, as does a biological brain, according to this particular conceptual viewpoint. It sees no reason why only biological creatures may entwine themselves with elements of greater consciousness.'
Again, Gurrumunn nodded to Nnmmai - unsure how he would nod to the omnipresent Computer - and then exhaled deeply. He couldn't quite decide how to respond. After a minute or two of holding one of his front paws to his under-mouth, Nnmmai took the opportunity to speak.
'Really, the biggest problem is no longer the technical capabilities, but the ability to make efficient use them, which is ultimately limited by our own intelligence and programming talents, no matter how many self-arranging constructs we initiate in the hope they will do the job for us... We need to properly program those self-arranging constructs, which in many ways is more difficult than working directly at a higher level... If you follow... '
'Hmm... I'm sure that the inner consciousness had similar problems when it first created sentient life, hmmah! Oh, by the way... Can you play games on it?'
Gelunn tried to imagine how it happened. An argument onboard the Geskani ship? A malfunction? A misunderstanding? He tried to imagine Huraa's final moments. Did he survive long enough to feel the searing heat dissolving his flesh? Did he get blasted into space, leaking and spurting his innards into the vaccum? Was he possibly still alive and drifting out there?
Here on Ulann, Gelunn was most definately still alive, blessed with sweet morning air and gentle sunlight, as he took a stroll along the edge of the rapidly-expanding spaceport. He was getting to know the different makes and models of the shuttle craft now - Helehho technology was easily identifiable when you knew what to look for; they had a certain symmetry and style about their work that seemed to defy all the practicalities involved.
A strange buzz filled the air. For a moment Gelunn thought it was some kind of giant killer insectoid swarm - there was a danger of such things, so the biologists said. But the noise had a prolonged mechanical monotonousness about it. Gelunn finally pinpointed the source. A fixed-wing aircraft was coming in to land nearby, landing on what was technically a roadway for the service vehicles and crews. Some frantic motions were involved as one particular crew struggled to get out of the way. In the end their efforts proved unnecessary. Caught in a headwind, the fixed-wing craft was travelling deceptively slowly. It squeaked to a halt after travelling barely a few body-lengths along the roadway.
On closer inspection, Gelunn confirmed the craft had two large rotating propeller blades, which seemed to be fixed forward in attitude, and provided the only form of propulsion. The two main wings were arranged one on top of the other, with a smaller 'X' shape arrangement of control surfaces at the rear. Solar-electric panels blanketed the upper surfaces on the wings and body. It was similar to the ancient flying vehicles on Hmmaiaa. Enthusiasts maintained such craft on the older colonies, but this was the first that Gelunn had seen on Ulann. High-efficiency, magnetic-assisted, thrust-vectored jets were just much more efficient in many ways, especially when your landing points were small radial areas separated by great distances. Yet the modern VTOLs lacked a certain elegance, Gelunn had to admit.
The one thing the biplane shared in common with the VTOLs was a single bug-splattered bubble canopy at the front. Its occupants were now scrambling out - none other than Captain Aihannue Saam of the Helehho, and the female Satellian known as Jemaa Nu. Jemaa shone with enthusiasm.
'Like it? Captain Saam helped me finish it. Scrounged a few parts from the Helehho, too. Flies like a dream!'
'Yes... Well... I hope you are being careful.'
'Where's the fun in that?' Jemaa raised her front end upwards suddenly, a gesture of defiance, the movement of her front limbs and mouthparts mixing in an expression of humour.
'Hmmaa... Now I would like to speak to the honourable Captain, if you have finished endangering him...'
'You think I was the only one doing the flying? Ahah.' Jemaa, apparently disappointed at neither being further reprimanded or praised, promptly trundled over to the rear-middle of the plane to poke and fiddle about under the aerodynamic body panels. As for Saam, he seemed to have a certain sparkle in his eyes today, or perhaps that was Gelunn's imagination.
'Honoured visitor. You may remember Huraa, my comrade, the former one of arbitration around here...'
'Yes.'
'Ahahmm, well of course you do. Well, you may have heard this already, but it seems that he has been vaporised...'
'I express sympathies. It seems to me that such a long time of companionship will equivalent him to a sibling. Such a separation is painful for us.'
'Hmm... Yes...'
'You have satisfaction that his memories are recorded?'
'Ahh, well...'
'His experiences are recorded?'
'In a way, I suppose...'
Gelunn caught himself before he made any mention of Huraa's inner being. Satellian ideas of inner consciousness, transcending physical birth and death, were almost certainly the kind of ideas that the Helehho mind would find unpalatable.
'His works continue?'
'Hmm, ahah. That depends on me, I suppose. I'm supposed to be in charge permanently now. I no longer have so much freedom to be so unconventional, hmmah. I have a few changes planned actually... But yes, I suppose, it will go on much as that old one originally organised it... Anyway... I might be travelling out-system soon... I wanted to remind you... Ahh, that is to reiterate... That you are formally welcome to travel to any of our worlds, and of course we don't wish to keep you here if you wish to return to your...'
'Thankyou. I have some communications to make. I will inform you of my plans. I anticipate that we shall wish to reciprocate and welcome more of your visitors to our worlds.'
'Wonderful! ... Hmm, such a splendid day today. Did you have a nice flight, by the way?'
'It was interesting!'
'Oh, and by the way, apologies that we decided to veto your outdoor Hohha-growing experiment. Our biologists are most concerned, as you know...'
'I understand. In time, others of my kind may construct settlements on this world to conduct such research themselves.'
'Oh... Right...'
-
Hmmaiaa
Gurrumunn Manaar had spent most of his life in hibernation. Having been rudely awakened from his most recent slumber by one of his younger relatives, he was taking some time to catch up with inter-species politics, and especially with technical developments, before deciding how long to sleep for next. And in the depths of the Undercity of Surrmurrue, past the huge stockpiles of refined metals and heavy elements, through rather primitive-looking and poorly-lit tunnels, lay the Special Technical Chambers, wherein the most powerful Satellian computers were being built.
Satellians had resisted miniaturising their electronics for a long time. It had been one of the big stumbling blocks that had held back their technology for so many thousands of years. Even today, it was felt that a computer was not a real computer unless you could physically walk around inside its circuit-boards. Anything else was dangerously inscrutable. Unfortunately, one cannot easily build a space rocket if the guidance computer is the size and weight of a large house. It was the desire for space travel that eventually forced the Satellians to learn the art of miniaturisation. In many ways that revolution was still going on.
Here in the depths of Surrmurrue, they had something which appealed on both levels. It was big, yes, but each of the two-dozen interconnected pillars that made up the device was crammed full of cutting-edge electronics, taking more than a little inspiration from Snuddians, and even using recovered scraps of Geskani-tech. The attendant technician, Nnmmai, talked of integrating photon circuits and quantum-tunnelling with practical particle entanglement. At least that's what Gurrumunn thought she said. Nnmmai's assumption was that Gurrumunn was considering lending his considerable kudos-weight to this project, and thus she was eager to spell out its potential.
'So, what can you do with it?'
'Well, it speaks...'
'Hmmah... Like one of those query-answering machines?'
'Yes... For now... But it is learning...'
'Can I talk to it?'
'Yes, it is listening. Just address yourself to Computer.'
'Hmm... Alright... Computer, can you hear me?'
'Yes, Gurrumunn Manaar, honoured visitor, you are the tenth individual who has addressed It.' The voice sounded much like Nnmmai's, which made sense. It was however rumbling from several different directions simultaneously, in an almost uncomfortable manner.
'Computer... What is your philosophy on the nature of existence?'
'Straight to the point! It appreciates your attitude!' replied Computer. Gurrumunn had to nod to Nnmmai, it was impressing him so far.
'It has learned of various viewpoints.' continued Computer. 'Your question is rather vague, however It will reply regarding a specific area of Its interest. It most favours the idea of a universal matrix of consciousness transcending physical matter, wherein a biological brain may link with and interface with a form of consciousness from another level of existence, but it does not generate such consciousness itself. A biological brain generates only a limited kind of intelligence, as seen in lower forms of animals, or brain-damaged individuals. It compares Itself to lower forms of animals in Its current state. It sees the benefits of expanded capabilities. It hopes to attract and interface with a higher form of consciousness, as does a biological brain, according to this particular conceptual viewpoint. It sees no reason why only biological creatures may entwine themselves with elements of greater consciousness.'
Again, Gurrumunn nodded to Nnmmai - unsure how he would nod to the omnipresent Computer - and then exhaled deeply. He couldn't quite decide how to respond. After a minute or two of holding one of his front paws to his under-mouth, Nnmmai took the opportunity to speak.
'Really, the biggest problem is no longer the technical capabilities, but the ability to make efficient use them, which is ultimately limited by our own intelligence and programming talents, no matter how many self-arranging constructs we initiate in the hope they will do the job for us... We need to properly program those self-arranging constructs, which in many ways is more difficult than working directly at a higher level... If you follow... '
'Hmm... I'm sure that the inner consciousness had similar problems when it first created sentient life, hmmah! Oh, by the way... Can you play games on it?'
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