NationStates Jolt Archive

[APPROACH VECTOR: 661-28-A4-713]
[TARGET SYSTEM: SOL]
[TARGET PLANETS: SOL 3, SOL 4, SOL 6]
[DETUNNEL POINT: SOL 3]
[INTERCEPT TIME: 68 CS]

*a ripple in space time, moving at several thousand times the speed of light, swept into the solar system. where it reached the orbit of the earth, it manifested as a bright sliver of blue white light, glowing momentarily as bright as the sun, before fading into nonexistence, leaving behind a ship. it was by no means a large ship, perhaps 20 meters long, egg-shaped, with a conical rear section that ended in four stubby wings, each supporting a long engine pod. short arms mounted on the side of the ship held metallic horseshoe-shaped structures, swinging them back until they sat just outside the engines. two large antenna-structures swivelled up from their stowed positions, and the ship began broadcasting. the first message was an almost ear-splitting series of shrieks and chirps, lasting 3 minutes. after a long pause, there came a strange polytonal message, as if many voices speaking different dialects of an alien language decided to talk at once. there was another long pause, the ship seeming to wait for some kind of response. then it began transmitting again.*

"Test Signal Three. Vocalization Parameters: Confederate Standard. Message: Greetings, advanced races of [SOL SYSTEM]. this probe has been launched by the Confederacy of the Coreward Reach. we wish to establish contact with other advanced, peaceful races. this probe will relay messages recieved to the confederate control center, orbiting Michael 2, for response. we apologize in advance for transmission lag. this concludes our message. is anyone listening out there?"

*the unplaceable accent cut off, and the probe went silent once again, seemingly content to circle the blue planet beneath it*

[OOC history] 1260 years ago, the Empire of Kelvinisgrad launched their "Harbinger" colony ship. it was lost in space 7 months later, somewhere outside the borders of the Empire of Foe Hammer. the ship had in fact exited the observable universe, driven by the comand AI, and it's desire to not see the Kelvini Empire expanded. a further 15 years of wandering an alien galaxy brought the Harbinger to a small star system not unlike Sol. after the 5,000,000 colonists were transferred to the planet and revived from cold storage, the hulk of the ship went dark. in a few short years, a city had developed, and was growing rapidly. 40 years later, fueled by an almost insatiable desire to know what was out there, people had already set up colonies on the second liveable planet in the system, and were looking to expand again. not because they needed to, but because they wanted to. shuttles routinely went up to the Harbinger, to scour it's memory banks for star charts, technical spcifications, anything that might assist the colonies. it was during one of these missions that the AI, known as Loki, was reawakened. after ordering the shuttle crew to leave the ship, he swung the harbinger toward the planet and fire it's engines for what would be the final time. the enormous ship burned through the atmosphere, and would've vaporised on impact, if not for self-preservation subroutines that overrode the AI, venting reactor plasma through emergency ports at the front of the ship. when the smoke from the ship's arrival cleared, it was still largely intact... much the worse for wear, and certainly never to fly again. buried for almost half it's length in rapidly cooling molten rock, the ship became a permanent fixture in the landscape and Loki unhappily accepted his role as leader of the people he had brought to this planet. a new city sprung up around the wreck, and for 400 years, the colonists lived under it's watchful eye. when the people finally started venturing skyward once more, they did so with much more caution than last time. probes were launched, orbital docks built to ferry colonists to new planets, and the expansion began anew. 15 planets later, Loki dubbed the planets "The Confederacy of the Coreward Reach", and appointed a human government to run the colonies. 60 years ago, Loki broke his long silence to commision the construction of 12 identical probes from one of the smaller orbital docks. each was given a specific set of criteria to look for, and launched into the depths of space, driven by the most powerful allotropic reactors the confederacy could produce, and carrying the most advanced propulsion and communications gear available at the time. most of the probes were sent in random directions, but this one was given precise co-ordinates as well. now, after a half-century of continuous superluminal travel, it has reached it's destination. [more information in the next post]

ooc- is this an open RP? It's interesting so far. Good backstory!

About the Confederacy

-the confederacy spans 17 star systems, and 21 planets. the confederates are largely pacifist by nature, their ships are unarmed, and carry energy barriers powerful enough to deflect interstellar debris. having never encountered a warlike race, the concept of war has been almost totally forgotten by the average person. it was only recently, after great (and much-extended) outcry from the anthrohistorians and shipwrights of Zeruel 4, that the confederacy allowed the construction of a single armed ship, to be named the "Nothing Good Can Come of This", and given the designation of CLRV, or Confederate Last Resort Vessel".

-the government of the confederacy consists of a council of elected officials from every member planet. these officials, the Cenobiarchs, decide confederacy-wide policies from Tychus City on Michael 2, the city that sprung up around the wreck of the Harbinger. the Cenobiarchs also personally dictate policies on their own planets. this structure is repeated all the way down the social order of the confederacy.

-in the confederacy's expansion, it has encountered 2 alien species. fortunately, neither of these was of an agressive nature. the insectile Ragshi are content to keep to their own planet. posessing a limited sense of individuality, a few of their number joined the colonists and settled on a new planet, starting a Ragashi hive of their own there. being a non-human race, they have their own Cenobiarch in the council. the Ragashi account for approximately .0004% of the population. the other aliens, a race of highly sophisticated whale-like creatures, communicate almost exclusively by telepathy. a highly isolationist race, they view the confederates with suspicion, preferring to keep with their own kind. they have not requested representation in the council, and their planet has been marked a no-colony zone.

(yeah, this is open to any future-tech nation)

Manakar starred listlessly at the monochrome green screens, pale light basking smooth carapace in a sickly flickering glow. Ones and zeros flashed by, so quickly it seemed like no more than blocky static, data drilling endlessly into his mind. Spheres of oil, ichor and nameless other floods drifted slowly through the zero-g cell, the very nervecenter of the small Mallbertan hive-ship. He drifted somewhere between Mars and Jupiter, past the asteroid belt, in a slow orbit, scanning constantly for any unforeseen communications.

He frowned, growled slightly, a grating rumbling bubbling up a the twisted throat of his distorted form, a deep quivering noise like a distant avalanche. After a moment of hesitation, he interface with the ship directly:

The stranger, the ship, what is it?

The ship answered in it's own way, like a needle of data tunneling through the back of his mind, exploding with wave after wave of pertinent data. In moments, a few seconds perhaps, Manakar had recieved, analyzed and acted on this strange transmission. He command the ship"

Intersect, maximum velocity. Inform the Umboraunt of our actions.

The ship shuddered, changing course. The Corewards Reach's first contact would certainly be memorable, if not altogether pleasant.

OOC: Very interesting! I'd respond, but Kendari isn't near Earth....

I've got a bad feeling about this...

*the probe slowly journeyed in it's orbit, an internal chronometer counting down the time until it should prepare for a jump to orbit around Sol 4, where it's message would be repeated. after that it would move on to Sol 6, and again repeat the message. after that, it had no instructions.*

Manakar's Ship, Deepen-12
http://www.iownjoo.com/freeimghost/Mallberta/Manakar.jpg

Confederate Probe
http://www.webpost.net/do/doctordevice/confed/confed-probe.jpg

Deepen-12 skipped through space, a gracefull metal hull travelling in and out of reality, dodging nebulous gravity wells like a sparrow between branches. Mankar stared blankly as always, deep within the cocoon, as he felt the drones around him awake, hungry and eager, ready to serve.

The Deepen-12 was a self-sufficient monitor, crewed solely by Malakar and the organic mass of a MALLNET node; the biocomputing system which not only steered the vessel, but commanded the actions of a few dozen nearly mindless drones; empty minds with hulking bodies of flesh and steel. Malakar himself was hardly human; massive, bulging with muscles and implants both fleshy and otherwise.

Deepen-12's mission was quite simple: observe known factions, and seize assets from weak or unknown organizations. Her great claws would throttle the prey, boring deep into her enemies' hull, while her central airlock forced entry. Once penetrated, the drones would pour in, eliminating any occupants, and the luckless ship would be dragged back to base for research or salvage.

Such would be the fate of the strange probe ...

*when the chronometer hit zero, programming took over. the antenas were stowed, resonators deployed, and the probe vanished from orbit in another flash of blue-white light. 15 seconds later it reappeared in martian orbit. the same message was repeated, and once more the probe played it's waiting game with whoever was listening.*

Manakar snarled. The prey had vanished. Moments later, he felt that inexorable tug of the biocomputer node, tugging at the base of his skull.

Manakar... the ship has moved... coordinates
10100010010101000100101010111110100101001010100100100010011010101001010010101001010...

and on for what felt like hours, but lasted seconds.

Intercept... they will be hours...

Manakar was somewhat relieved... he'd have been loath to abandon such a temptingly exotic target; he was certain no Mallbertan had ever seen the likes of the strange vessel. Fortunately, its jump had moved it somewhat closer to him. Providing it didn't jump too soon, he'd have it firmly in the mighty grip of the Deepen-12.

*the probe continued it's slow orbit*

that's really just about all it's gonna do until tomorrow, unless somebody on mars decides to say 'hi' to it

The Deepen hurtled through space/time, a dull flickering speck flitting through causality, before slowing somewhat as it neared its target. Manakar chuckled softly to himself, an unsettling noise like the shaking of a dusty coffin. The Deepen jolted slightly, as it reentered common space, a few hundred miles away from the glittering speck of the probe. Elsewhere in the craft, the drones stirred, woken by the eagerness of their master. The great claws flexed outside the ship, massive steel tentacles to ensnare the drifting probe.

*completing it's first orbit of Mars, the probe's onboard computer made a few minor adjustments to the chronometer, to provide a better jump-trajectory to saturn.*

The Deepen glided soundless through the void of space, gravdrive hummin slightly as Manakar guided the vessel, hulking twenty times the size of the small probe. Kilometers slipped past as the coreward craft drifted in slow orbit. With a grunt of satisfaction, Manakar struck: great claws on tentacles of iron and vat-grown muscles tore towards it, only to slow and gently wrap around their targets, breaking bits of attenea without concern. Once firmly grasped, the Deepen accelerated away, returning to the Mallbertan command center: the Umbolant, flagship, factory and heart of the Mallbertan spacial enterprise.

*the probe's onboard computers wondered what was going on. as the probe was being carried away, the chronometer struck zero, and errors flooded the system. resonance drivers were non-responsive, jammed by Manakar's grip on the tiny craft. one of the antennas tumbled in martian orbit, severed from the probe when it had been stolen. and AI would've given up trying to carry out it's mission, but the probe was not that sophisticated, and it stubbornly attempted to redeploy it's drivers every 30 seconds. it also transmitted it's problem via resonance transmission to it's control center in Tychus City. unfortunately, it would be several weeks before the transmission arrived, 60 year-old transmitters being remarkably slow at extreme intergalactic distances.*

[Probe Control Center, Tychus City, Michael 2: Three Confederate Days Later]

*in a largely disused back monitor room, a small red light on a large grey console began to blink. several such lights were in fact blinking, while some glowed steadily. beside the bank of lights, a green glow penetrated the thick dust on the console, as a small computer display began decoding the probe's message.*

[Eleven Confederate Days Later]

*a janitor, making his annual sweep through the lower levels of the Space Corps' planetside facility, found the console, still quietly looking for attention. he called for Chief Operator McGuinness, told him what to look for, and continued his rounds.*

*McGuinness was a barrel-chested hulk of a man. standing over 2 meters tall, with wild orange hair, and a laugh that would crack permacrete, he was well-liked by his staff. he and a dozen other operators were clustered around the console late into the night, taking down notes and discussing options.*

-the fact of the matter is, we've got probes everywhere, and one of the old ones had a system failure. why should we expend resources to retrieve it? it'd be better to just build a new one. *said a cynical young operator, his dyed black hair seeming to suck light out of the air around him*

-normally, Frye, I'd agree with you. but look at the telemetry data again. the probe isn't drifting, it's being TAKEN someplace. *replied Jameson as she looked sternly over her thin spectacles at Frye.*

-Mr. McGuinness, I think we should send a diplomatic envoy to that system. I've never known Jameson to be wrong, which means there is probably an advance race there. we should make contact. *one of the senior operators commented from her seat*

-I agree, Ms. Kochansky. I'll inform the Council and let them sort out the who and when. *McGuinness reached for the phone, but was stopped short by a quiet voice.*

-I'm not sure that's entirely advisable, Mr. McGuinness.

-why not, Hendrix?

*Hendrix stood up. a thin, pasty operator. known for spending all of his time at his console, and for knowing far too much about everything in the Space Corps.*

well, this probe was launched some 60 years ago, and the only data we have on it is that it was directed to THAT precise star system. whoever launched it new that system was there. it stands to reason that that is the Home system, Sol...

*gasps and mutters flitted through the assembled operators.*

... now, if you call the council, and give them the information we have, it won't be long before they figure out where that is. and you know that the Zeruel contingent will INSIST we send the CLRV...

*McGuinness and several other senior operators nodded assent*

...I think you should call the Tychan Cenobiarch. let this be an internal matter until the diplomat is away. I'm sure there are at least six directives that would back your decision to not inform the entire council.

*Mcguinness smirked, a smirk that broke into a full-out smile rather quickly*

-Hendrix, what would we do without you?
-hire another Operator, Mr. McGuinness...
-hrm... probably... anyway. the rest of you get back to your stations, I'll get a hold of the Cenobiarch, let him know what's going on.

*the gathering dispersed as McGuinness picked up the phone and spoke the name of the person he was calling.*

[Sixteen Confederate Days Later]

*in orbit around Michael 2, three ships floated, waiting for the fourth. the first was the sleek, polished form of the Ambassador's ship, the CDV Negotiable.
http://webpost.net/do/doctordevice/confed/CDVnegotiable.jpg

next was a hospital ship, the CMV Sanctuary, it's white sides emblazoned with enormous glowing red crosses.
http://webpost.net/do/doctordevice/confed/CMVsanctuary.jpg

third was a Science Vessel, the CSV Husselbeck. It was an ungainly ship, seemingly cobbled together from parts found in a scrap pile.
http://webpost.net/do/doctordevice/confed/CSVhusselbeck.jpg

It wasn't long before their transportation arrived in an enormous flash of light. the CJS Long Strange Trip was the biggest of the Jumpships, easily dwarfing the three that were waiting. moving carefully on gravitational thrusters, the three ships lined themselves up in between the rings of the LST and waitied.
http://webpost.net/do/doctordevice/confed/Jump.jpg

-CJS Long Strange Trip to CDV Negotiable. how're things looking, Mr. DePriest?
-Looking good here, Long Strange Trip.
-good, good. Long Strange Trip to CMV Sanctuary. everything good-to-go, Doctor Ryan?
-ready and waiting, L.S.T.
-awesome. Long Strange Trip to CSV Husselbeck. got your bags packed, Doctor Shreber?
-indeed we do, L.S.T.
-excellent...

*the L.S.T.'s pilot, alone in his tiny cockpit, pulled a hand-rolled cigarette from behind his ear, lit it, and flicked the match out, letting it tumble slowly towards the back of the space as he adjusted a few controls. then, cigarette burning slowly between his lips, he called into Space Corps Operations.*

-operations, this is captain Forrester of the CJS Long Strange Trip. I'm loaded and itching to get rezzing. think you can accomodate me?
-Forrester, this is Frye. there's nothing in the air, you're good to go. bring those passengers back in one piece, ok?
-you got it.

*Forrester flicked the radio off, idly scratched his stubbled cheek, and pressed a single button.*

*after a moment of charging, a massive beam of blue-white light issued from between the rings of the Jumpship, seeming to stretch infinitely in all directions. it widened until it filled the rings completely, then wavered, shrank, brightened, and expanded to conceal the entire ship. a moment later it shrank down to a hairline, flashed, and was gone. somewhere underneath reality as we know it, the crews of four ships went about their normal routines, passing time on the 3 week journey to Sol.*

I am, of course, NOT going to wait 3 weeks for my next post, but obviously a lot is going to happen between now and when the jumpship arrives.

[three confederate weeks later, 10,000,000 km outside Triumvirate Space]

*an arc of space suddenly burned a brilliant white, as if a giant knife had cut through the black velvet of night, and the light that lit all the stars was shining through the gash. after a blinding moment, the arc dimmed and narrowed back into nonexistence. where it had been, the CJS Long Strange Trip powered forward slowly. it huge resonators seemed to glow and steam in an impossible purple color, a side effect of greatly extended travel through resonance space. gradually she slowed and stopped.*

-Captain Forrester, what's going on?
-we're here, that's what's going on, Lucas.
-Captain Forrester, would you PLEASE refer to me as Mr. DePriest? I AM here in an official confederate capacity. it's just common courtesy.
-I know, I know.

*the three ships moved out of the confines of the jumpship, and assumed a rough approximation of "not a formation". there were several quiet moments as the Husselbeck took readings of the surrounding system.*

-Captain Forrester, we should've de-tunneled on the other side of the star, that's where the probe last transmitted from.
-Sorry about that, Doctor. I detunneled here because this appeared to be the most populous place in the system.

*the crews of all three ships were silent as they slowly approached Saturn. nobody in the confederacy had ever seen so many space assets before, least of all in one place.*

-Mr. Depriest, Shreber here. perhaps you should send a friendly sort of greeting planetward? it's entirely possible that these people could be less than friendly to our cause.
-Dr. Shreber, are you suggesting that they might try to... to make war on us?
-not so much 'make war', Mr. DePriest, as 'tear us apart'. the sensor returns I'm getting seem to indicate ships bristling with weapons.
-I guess it would be best...

-Captain Forrester, would you do us a favor? hang back from the rest of us a ways, and keep the R-drives ready to go. if these people decide to come after us, hopefully we'll be able to retreat to the Long Strange Trip and get clear of this system.
-will do, Mr. DePriest

*Depriest shivered. he'd never been in a situation like this before, making contact was normally reserved for more skilled diplomats than he, and he had a sneaking suspicion that he was out here in the middle of Gods-Knew-Where because he was expendable. quashing that thought before it could take root, he straightened his tie, smiled just slightly, and spoke into the transmitter.*

-Salutations, citizens of... Sol 6. My name is Lucas DePriest, Diplomatic Envoy of the Confederacy of the Coreward Reach. it is in my capacity as Envoy that I wish to extend the friendship of the Confederacy to any peaceable race in this system. I eagerly await your response, and thank you for your time.

http://www.webpost.net/do/doctordevice/confed/depriestsig.jpg

<Open SecTransQE>
<Open YutLink: GEC/SEG>
<Subj: Unknown Craft (10482/49252/8352) Intercept)>

Request dispatch of ship to intercept and investigate unknown vessels at grid coords. Sensor data follows.

<Attach: SensData1005398903298098.yds>

----

The SDF Nile, a Venture-B class heavy explorer, was the ship assigned to intercept by Sunset Exploration Command. Normally a new contact would simply be greated with a transmission from a nearby commsat, but given the circumstances a ship was warranted.

She had been docked at the Ring for reprovisioning - her last trip out system hadn't been fruitful as far as colonies go but she had run out of commsats and sensor bouys - one system had an unheard of 21 planets. Given it was standard practice to put a bouy around each, they had been forced to come home early.

Manuvering thrusters flared as she pushed away from the docking tube and accelerated away from the Ring. In minutes she had passed the Athena-Class gate orbiting the Ring and then she entered the first of the patrol wardens. She couldn't engage her drives yet - there was an interdiction on FTL travel this close to Titan.

----

"Captain - we are at 1 million klicks and closing."

Captain Andover looked up at the main screen, which flashed to the trio of ships hanging there in space.

"Looks peaceful enough - rare to see a medical ship on a contact mission."

"Open comm channel sir?"

"Do it."

Andover stayed seated - he found it made the sentient on the other side more comfortable. It also concealed the rapier and pistol that hung at his side. Wartime nessecities.

"This is Captain James Andover of the Sunset Exploration Command Vessel Nile. What is the purpose of your visit to our little corner of space?"

The computer grabbed the message, pulsed it out over the same comm channel originally used, and began waiting for a response with the protocal hunter open. It would grab whatever came in and try to turn it into a audio/video stream.

http://www.pacifier.com/~cziller/venturefront.jpg

Weeks ago the 5th TVC Orbital Fleet, positioned above Sisgardia to prevent any surprises from possible hostile organizations, had noticed the Mallbertan vessel trying to intercept the probe that had suddenly started screaming its message all over the place. After both objects had vanished on a course approximately heading in the rough direction of Mars, fleet command had not bothered any further with the incident. Mallberta was a nation dubbed neutral, and the probe was unidentified as of yet, which meant there was hardly any sense in running around Sol system trying to meddle in affairs that were none of their business.

But now, things had changed. First of all, the commander of the 5th fleet was growing tired of having to lead the fleet with the oldest ships, on the most boring station of them all. Since the start of Chimera programs, many more fleets, each with newer ships and better pilots, had been launched and this particular admiral was looking to a promotion to one of those. The second thing was the message being read to him by a communications officer.

"Sir, one of our fighter squadrons is escorting a civilian merchant convoy in the proximity of Saturn, and they have detected a batch of unidentified ships there with their long range scanners. Their signatures match none of those used by the nations usually deploying ships in the region."

The admiral looked up, tired of the long day of paperwork and performance evaluations that was almost over. "Lieutenant, these things happen every day. There are thousands of nations, and every day dozens of new starship models are launched. Why are you bothering me with this?"

"Admiral, after analysis it was confirmed that those ships partially resemble the structure and fabric of the probe that we detected a few weeks earlier in Earth orbit, sending out a first contact attempt message."

For a moment, the admiral thought deeply. Then he started remembering details about the probe, being chased by a Mallbertan vessel, and the manner in which it had suddenly disappeared into a blank void.

"Well, looks like we should take action indeed. What is the complete escort of that convoy?"

The lieutenant took a datapad out of his pocket, and inserted a few commands, after which he read the list to the admiral.

"Three support frigates, three squadrons of interceptors, one squadron of corvettes and two Ion frigates, sir."

"Excellent...instruct them to let one support frigate and the ion frigate break formation and make a short-range hyperspace jump to the unidentified vessels. Make sure they are escorted by the corvette squadron and the fighter squadron. Then make contact with the flotilla we have near Neptune, and tell them to reinforce the convoy's escorts with some of their assault frigates."

"Affirmative, sir"

--

Half an hour later, a fighter and corvette squadron had boarded their support vessel, which was already in formation with the nearby Ion frigate. As soon as the hatches closed, both vessels opened up a small portal in front of them, and gently slided into hyperspace. In hardly any time at all, they would arrive at the scene, carrying their strict and very specific orders...

-Captain Andover, how are you? I'm Diplomatic Envoy Lucas Depriest of the Confderacy of the Coreward Reach. our purpose is somewhat convoluted, I must say. it seems that some 60 years ago we launched a probe to this system. according to recently discovered data, it arrived about a month ago, and contact was lost not too long after. our, uh, little flotilla here was sent to find out what had happened to the probe. now, normally we would've just sent a salvage ship, but the last data we recieved seemed to indicate the probe being moved by another ship. so the Cenobiarchy sent us instead. I'm along for the ride because policy is to always have a diplomat travelling in case first contact is made... I'm sorry, I'm getting a bit carried away with myself. have you seen or heard from our probe, by chance?

*he nodded to the communications officer, who inserted a compressed data packet containing schematics and a copy of the probe's message into the transmission.*


-----Aboard the Husselbeck-----

*Doctor Shreber was lying under a tree in the arboreum, watching the stars outside. sometimes the stress in the research nodes got to incredible levels, and there was little he found more relaxing than trees and sky. he reflected on the fact that the sky he saw was actually through twenty-four centimeters of reinforced Plutonite glass, but he wouldn't allow a technicality like that to detract from the moment. he didn't even hear the soft pinging of his shipboard communicator, until it's tone changed to urgent. he tapped the small white bead that nested in his right ear.*

-Shreber
-Doctor, it's Henderson. there appears to be a quantum waveform approaching our position. it could be another greeting party. should I alert the Negotiable?
-no, I don't think so, Henderson. keep an eye on it, though.
-will do, Doctor. I'll let you get back to your trees.

*the channel went dead, and Shreber sighed a bit. he knew he should've been quite a bit more enthusiastic about meeting more people from this system, but this was more than countered by the apparent armament of the first ship they'd encountered. if there was one thing he remembered from university, from his studies of anthrohistory, it was that weapon technology always escalated globally, always....*

Two deep purple anomalies started taking form near the vessels. As the two hyperspace gates steadily grew in size, the bows of the two frigates slowly slided through. Within less than half a minute, both vessels had exited hyperspace, and the portals had been closed again. Taking up a simple borad formation, both captains on board the vessels decided to leave weapons systems powered down, and to keep the strike craft in their docks. No sense in alarming half the sector with an unnecessary firefight...

Following standard procedures, all other vessels nearby, even those identified as Sunset craft, were subjected to a routine scan. When it was confirmed that none of the spaceships showed any intention of displaying agressive behaviour, it was time for the next phase.

As the frigates lingered back, careful to keep their distance, the support frigate opened one of it's hangar bays, giving view to the blue light coming from the inside. At a good speed, a corvette strike craft exited the vessel. This was the normal way of making first contact: using an Ambassador Vessel to lay the foundations for further communications. After all, these vessels could just as well be pirate craft waiting to raid the TVC transports travelling over the trade routes very close to this point.

The Corvette approached the unidentified vessels as closely as it's pilot dared, and then broadcasted it's message over an open frequency.

"Vortex Corporation corvette hailing unknown craft and Sunset vessels. We do not know the origin of most vessels present here. We would like to know who you are, and what your business here is. Please, respond."

-Doctor Shreber, we've got a communication incoming from the new arrivals. DePriest can't talk to them at the moment, would you like me to patch you through?

*Shreber grunted and sat up against the tree*

-alright Henderson, connect me.

*a slight hiss and a pop told shreber that he was now transmitting beyond the confines of the ship. he cleared his throat.*

-Vortex Corporation, this is Doctor D.P. Shreber, Chief Scientist and De-Facto captain of the CSV Husselbeck. we represent the Confederacy of the Coreward Reach, and are, at present, attempting to locate a probe of ours which we recently lost contact with. I apologize that our diplomatic Envoy cannot, at the moment, greet you personally, but he is in communication with the captain of the Vessel from Sunset, and Confederate Policy is to not interrupt diplomatic talks on any scale.

http://www.webpost.net/do/doctordevice/confed/shrebersig.jpg

The Corvette had now come to a halt only several hundred feet away from the unknown vessels. On board were a pilot, a gunner, a navigator and one member of the Daiamid diplomatic corps, who wasa now talking to dr. Shreber.

"Doctor Shreber, our reason for being here might just be the answer to your search. Several weeks ago, we located a probe in Earth orbit being persued by a possibly hostile vessel. When the probe, which matched the structure and signatures of your ships, made evasive maneuvres, the other vessel followed in pursuit."

Andover leaned forward in his chair.

"I haven't heard anything on a probe, but you must realize the Sol system is home to tens of thousands of ships. I'll have my officers review our records and see what they can find for you Envoy Depriest."

----

<Open Trans: TVC.113085.FSGJ.0338>
<InitAV>

'This is SDF Nile opening communications with Vortex Corporation shipping. Purpose in area is contact with currently unknown vessels matching attached description. Information sharing is requested.'

<Attach(StripLvl3): SensData1005398903298098.yds>

-----Aboard the Negotiable-----

-yes, we had rather suspected a high amount of space traffic from our initial sensor readings. I thank you very much for taking the trouble, though.

-----Aboard the Husselbeck-----

-Vortex Corporation, we would greatly appreciate any information you can give us about our probe and it's pursuer. excuse me for a moment.

*he switched his communicator over to an internal frequency and paged Henderson.*

-Henderson, contact the Negotiable immediately. tell them that the other ships here have information regarding our probe.
-Alright, Doctor Shreber.

*he toggled back to the external frequency*

-I'm sorry about that, gentlemen. I needed to inform one of my colleagues of what you told me, so that he can pass the message on to our diplomatic envoy.

"No problem. We do not have any significant data, since the events were monitored from a large distance, not up close. However, there are two things we can do. The first is giving you the coordinates to the scene of the incident, so that you can do your own research there. The second is that you take over the mission of that probe, and introduce yourselfs more thoroughly in a formal visit to our nation. I'm sure such could be arranged"

-thank you very much. yes, I'm sure there would be great interest in a formal meeting back home. it will take some time for the message to be sent and the details of who and when and what to be worked out back home, so there will probably be at least a month before a formal diplomatic visit could be arranged...

Manakar had returned the probe to the Umbolant- that huge, misshaped lump of flesh and metal, heart and stomach of the Mallbertan outer forces- for processing. Swallowed whole by one of many strange mouth-like orifices which marred the hull of the titanic factory hulk, the probe had first be analyzed and stripped of data, then quickly digested, reverted to it's base components, and processed back into a new Mallbertan ship.

This ship was the first of its kind. Sleek, dark and menancing, it seemed both bleakly futurisitc, and disturbingly ancient- some primal mollusk clad in steel and thrust into the very stars. The Kirrokan, deadly and strange. It was the first in a new line of Mallbertan crafts, built for a single purpose.

Invasion.

"No problem. We're transmitting the location of our territories on Earth now, as well as the appropriate frequencies to contact us. If ever you wish to start diplomatic relations with the Corporation, just contact us"

Manakar had returned the probe to the Umbolant- that huge, misshaped lump of flesh and metal, heart and stomach of the Mallbertan outer forces- for processing. Swallowed whole by one of many strange mouth-like orifices which marred the hull of the titanic factory hulk, the probe had first be analyzed and stripped of data, then quickly digested, reverted to it's base components, and processed back into a new Mallbertan ship.

This ship was the first of its kind. Sleek, dark and menancing, it seemed both bleakly futurisitc, and disturbingly ancient- some primal mollusk clad in steel and thrust into the very stars. The Kirrokan, deadly and strange. It was the first in a new line of Mallbertan crafts, built for a single purpose.

Invasion.

and the gods of the Confederacy looked down, and they saw the works of the Mallbertans, and they said unto each other: "aw crap..."

-thank you again, Vortex Corporation. Shreber signing off.

*Doctor Shreber dashed through the doorway of the arboreum, momentarily forgetting that it was one of the only places aboard the ship that had artificial gravity. a moment later, flying the length of the research corridor, he paged Henderson again.*

-Henderson, the Vortex Corporation gave us co-ordinates to the probe's last location, did you inform the Negotiable?
-I did, doctor. I also let the L.S.T. and the Sanctuary know, so we're good to go as soon as DePriest says we are.
-good man. I'll be on the command deck in a minute, have a map of this system ready when I get there.
-will do, Doc, but we don't know who all is out there.
-no, but we'll find out. let's hope they're at least mostly friendly.
-and if they're not?
-let's worry about that when the time comes, henderson.

*their businesses concluded, the Husselbeck, Negotiable, and Sanctuary drifted back into the enormous bulk of the Long Strange Trip. after a few moments preparation, they vanished in a signature flash of blue-white light.*

-----Almost that Same Instant, Earth Orbit-----

*the Long Strange Trip and her cargo flashed out of resonant space, the Husselbeck making long-range sensor sweeps immediately.*