NationStates Jolt Archive

All advanced nations spot an un-announced launch from a region not claimed by any known nation.

On the ground, sophisticated digital minds monitor the condition of the single-stage nuclear lightbulb rocket, an untested but rigorously-simulated device. All systems appear to be operating within the acceptable range of estimated parameters. The craft takes up low-Earth orbit and discharges several satellites, which quickly move under power to take up their own positions.

Suddenly a radio transmission is broadcast in the clear:

"This launch represents a successful operation performed by the sovereign nation of Gamma-12. Today we have become a spacefaring power, and we declare our existence to the world at large, as well as affirm our sovereignty and self-determination. We are willing to accept delegates from other nations at this time. Provisions will be made at the expense of our government. That is all."

OOC: Gamma-12 is a nation of intelligent machines, but the tech is not particularly advanced over modern-tech; the only real liberty taken is the assumption of a computer capable of housing a digital mind, and the perfection of mobility and power techniques in robotics (Gamma-12 robots usually store power in batteries, fuel cells or extract it from food (burning sugars); all other technology is pretty standard (there are experimental laser and particle beam weapons, but nothing man-portable, and usable only in certain situations--for the most part, their armaments are fairly standard). I am not interested in RPing with advanced futuretech or fantasy nations; I'm wanting to explore the relations of man and machine when they are on a roughly equal level, and to that end I will go to considerable lengths to avoid godmodding and godmoding in order to interact with "realistic" nations.

Also, though this cannot be determined from the ground, the satellites are simply observation/communication satellites, and possess no space-based weaponry (though Gamma-12 does have an extensive program to develop orbital weapons).

"Intriguing"
"Aye. 'Till now, I thought we were the only ones using nuclear lightbulb NTRs."
"Well, sir, until now, we were."
"Stands to reason those satellites can probably recieve as well as transmit, does it not?"
"It does."
"Good. Target one of 'em on high-gain. Match frequency, of course. I want to talk to these newcomers."

One of the Arêtê's many radio dishes slowly swiveled on its bearings to track one of the newly launched satellites and began broadcasting.
People of Gamma-12, I, Governor of the Guild City-ship Arêtê, welcome you into the abyss. Your technological demonstration is impressive for a fledgling spacefarer. Where may we send our representatives?

"Representatives can be sent to any location within the following sphere. Stand by for televised broadcast."

Upon viewing, a sphere is shown, with a 60'km-radius area merely 50 km away from the launch site. Notably, the extent of the national borders are NOT shown.

"We look forward to recieiving your representative."

"Aw, crap!"
"What now? Another tube blow?"
"Might as well have. They're sending T.V. data. What the heck is everybody's obsession with T.V. these days?"
"Darned if I know. Do yer best."
Decrypting and displaying the visual signals turned out to be the easy bit.
"Aw, crap."
"Time for a new word. Try 'smeg!' What's wrong now?"
"Well, just look at it! They say 'land somewhere in here', but they don't tell us where to find runways, if any exist, fuel recyclage points, nothing!"
"Well. Shoot. Hm."
"We could send down a Lightbulb. They sent one up, so...."
"Nah, waste of fuel. Lightbulbs are reserved for heavy lift. Heh... just- just prep a WaveRider. If they really mean we can land anywhere, I'm bettin we can find a flat stretch somewhere."
"Okeydokey.... You da boss."
------------------------------------------------------------------------

The WaveRider hit atmosphere after a seven hour fourty-five minute fall, screaming through the thermosphere with a blue-green trail of ionized air behind it. Somewhere roundabouts Mach 10, intakes opened to make use of the high-temperature, high-pressure air in front of the vehicle, storing it for later use as well as assiting in deceleration. The ion trail continued almost all the way into the troposphere, by which point the WaveRider had managed to get down to a more reasonable speed of Mach 1.5 and it took up flying more like a glider than like a rock.

By the time the spaceplane crossed into the sphere, the reserves of pressurized air captured in the stratosphere serving to power and control the rest of its flight as it searched for a suitable place to set down.

Soon enough, two bogeys are detected on an approach vector at similar speeds. In the clear comes a radio broadcast:

"Attention diplomatic courier. We have tracked your progress and observed your craft. A suitable landing site has been located...please follow us."

The bogeys close and take up flanking positions, then proceed to escort the spaceplane to a gigantic aerospaceport. Visual examination of the Gamma-12 craft reveals sleek lines and advanced engineering, and no apparent cockpit whatsoever.

The flanking planes direct the Guild craft to runway. Hundreds of strange shapes swarm the land and sky surrounding the port. Most of them do not appear to be large enough to carry human occupants.

Upon landing, the spaceplane is met by several strange machines, each obviously artificial but with sleek, organic lines and a high degree of sophistication. Three six-legged, low-slung models bearing a resemblence to the mechanical offspring of a panther and an anaconda rush to assemble a ladder.

Upon coming to a complete stop, the spaceplane emitted a large cloud of steam from just above the leading edges of its delta wings. After a couple of minutes, a ramp began to lower from the underside supported on pnuematic pistons.

Down said ramp rolled a large tinted glass tank mounted on a six-wheeled chassis, accompanied by a black vinyl humanoid form with aluminium bars running along the legs, arms, and ribcage, giving it a rather skeletal appearance, capped with a bug-eye helmet connected to the rest of the machine by a large segment of ribbed tubing. Upon reaching the bottom of the ramp, the humanoid form raised an arm with accompanying whirr of servos, and flipped up the helmet visor to reveal a vaguely Indian female face. The spacer looked around a bit, then said "Well, 'ello. Don't suppose you'd happen to have a uranium hexaflouride recycler about, eh?"

Within the Van Allen Belts

"Interesting"
"What have you found on the radar?"
"There's another nation with inner space capability. It's a nuclear reactor, though."
"Just take the pictures. They won't attack us. Heck, they probably can't even detect us."

The machines swivel their heads back and forth several times, as if in communication. Finally, one approaches somewhat cautiously, speaking in a rich, synthesized voice.

"We have considerable nuclear power assets and access to uranium. If you require fuel for your craft, it should be possible to reach a mutually-beneficial arrangement. You and any other people aboard your craft should come with us at this time, however. We can discuss details in the appropriate time and place.

The Guild diplomatic entourage is led to a large, low-slung vehicle like a flatbed truck with a hastily-assembled set of crude seats, to which are fastened webs of spun fabric presumably equivalent to seatbelts. A half-dozen machines of various models board it as well, clamping themselves into place with strong, metallic claws. Silently, the makeshift limousine sets out onto a desert road of textured green glass.

"Welcome, ambassadors, to the free nation of Gamma-12. We apologize for the lack of suitable accomadations, but we have yet to fully integrate the substantial human population into our working class and we have had few opportunities to really bring about comfortable travel conditions. Your living quarters will be highly experimental, to say the least...if there's anything we can do to make your stay easier, please tell us at once."

The vehicle speeds along the roadway, and for a long time there is nothing to see but desert. At one point a small tent city can be seen, with obvious human occupants.

"Not many years ago," explains one of the low-slung machines, "we recieved an influx of human refugees...our first real contact with anything human. We were initially frightened, but it soon became apparent that they were even more so. We found a way to communicate and to learn from each other. After determining that they were no threat, and could be an asset, we allowed them to settle here, and we have been attempting to integrate them into the population. It has not been easy, for there still exists some distrust. The settlement you saw is a group who wants nothing to do with our civilization. We have determined that the ecology will not support them indefinitely, so we periodically send them supplies and food. However, most of them human population lives in our cities, and we have been trying to find work for all of them. It is not easy."

Eventually a fantastic metropolis is reached. It swarms with mechanized activity, and in some places it is hard to tell from an insect hive. The crude limousine parks, making way for a rotocraft. A single one of the low-slung machines accompanies the entourage, as the craft rapidly ascends a steel tower crawling with all sorts of tiny robots.

It enters a wide cavern in the side of the tower, lands within, and disgorges the passengers. A trio of tiny humanoid robots, each two feet tall and with soft, sculpted features approach. They are rather cute.

"Please follow us! We will show you to your quarters!"

On board the Phalanix scout ship Vampire in orbit:
"Sir we have detected a new object coming from a nation that we had no confermation of space faring tech," the radar operator said quickly to his captain. "Ok then send word to the battleship Titan about this and lets give then a warm welcome," the captain replied quickly. "You mean we should nuke them?" another officer on the bridge said with alittle hint shock in his voice. "No you idiot I mean we say hello. Christ all you think about is nuking things when ever they say a warm welcome."
The Vampire's com dish quickly swiviled into postion with the satalite and transmitted. Greatings from the nation of Phalanix. We have just noticed your new space faring abilitys and would like to congratulate you on this as well as welcome to the void.

OOC: What sort of tech are you using? I'm keeping to relatively low-tech and as realistic space-tech as possible; no Star-Wars type stuff and no "space navies." Nothing personal, I'm just trying to RP with mainstream nations as much as possible. I'd like some details on your nation before I reply.

OOC:Ok I'm using advanced Halo/Macross tech and way back when my nation went through several civil wars and all. But thats all under controll now. The inteligence comity ikes to keep tabs on all nations that have the ability to enter space an all.

The machines swivel their heads back and forth several times, as if in communication. Finally, one approaches somewhat cautiously, speaking in a rich, synthesized voice.

"We have considerable nuclear power assets and access to uranium. If you require fuel for your craft, it should be possible to reach a mutually-beneficial arrangement. You and any other people aboard your craft should come with us at this time, however. We can discuss details in the appropriate time and place."Ah, no no no. We have plenty of fuel. But, ah, I just like to clean the lead and other fission byproducts out of the fueltanks as often as possible. Makes for a more efficient engine, in my opinion."

"Welcome, ambassadors, to the free nation of Gamma-12. We apologize for the lack of suitable accomadations, but we have yet to fully integrate the substantial human population into our working class and we have had few opportunities to really bring about comfortable travel conditions. Your living quarters will be highly experimental, to say the least...if there's anything we can do to make your stay easier, please tell us at once.""Eh, don't worry about that. This little tank," the Guilder tapped the cylindrical glass tank, "and my g-suit can keep us pretty well off. Our particular physiological peculiarities make it necessary to come prepared for the possibility of no suitable quarters being available when and wherever we go planetside. Believe me, I'll be happy with just about anything."

"Please follow us! We will show you to your quarters!" The tinted glass tank faded to transparency, revealing a second spacer floating inside. "Wow. I was beginning to think the human form was totally absent from this place. Nice to meet you. Lead on."