NationStates Jolt Archive

Interstellar Space; 2.6ly Galactic Nor-Nor-West of New Haven

The interstellar medium experienced a sudden, and rare event: it's normal flow was quite rapidly altered at a particular and distinct point as a fifteen-kilometre diameter starship >popped< into existance, expelling hydrogen molecules from their previous positions - in some cases at c-fractional velocity.

Tiny shockwaves ripple out, barely noticeable in the grand scheme of the universe.

The To Seek, To Find hangs motionless for twenty seconds, then vanishes again.

She re-emerges a further light-year in towards New Haven, cautiously. Another pause. Another instantaneous translation - but this time, she emerges at a distance of one billion kilometres 'up' (using the nearest star's magnetic poles as the basis for relative position) from New Haven's primary.

And then she just... sits there. Patiently. The gamma-ray burst of her arrival is quite, quite distinctive.

Her (exceedingly numerous) gunports remain closed, and there is no sign of active scanning.

IC:

New Haven System Intelligence

"Gamma ray burst detected, class Ia, very weak," an officer called out as he monitored his screens in New Haven System Intelligence, the Intelligence Branch dedicated to keeping an eye on system traffic (and border activity).

"Ia, thats not big at all," Admiral Ainsworth, Commander-in-Chief of New Haven System Intelligence, said as he walked over. "Whats the relative position of the burst?" The GRB-monitoring officer typed away at his keyboard, bringing up a 3D map of the New Haven System and its surrounding space.

"It came from here, sir," the officer said as a blinking indicator appeared. "Its not a stellar event, so it might be anything. Some stray antimatter colliding with a comet, who knows?"

"It could be a drive signature we've never previously encountered, probably just a probe through," Ainsworth replied. "Whatever the cause, I think this is worth a further look. Launch a probe and have the FTLi drop for a split-second for the probe to make the jump into the vicinity."

"Aye, sir. It will be a few hours before a probe is launched."

"Very well, keep an eye on that spot."

Bridge, IDSS To Seek, To Find

As it would happen, the captain was not present when the probe was detected by passive sensors. Immediately, he was summoned to the bridge.

But inevitably, protocol dictated the response anyway. "Verify that our weapon systems are inactive," the avatar in the centre seat requested.

WeapOps Lieutenant Louise Saldana shook her head. "No weapons activity on our part. All systems verified."

Elise nodded crisply. "SensOps, you know the drill. Active scan, weakest possible output. We don't want them to think we're using e-warfare techniques on em or something."

And then arrived Captain Ixir ar-Tharash.

It was rare for a Tharash to even be in the CSF, let alone rise to the command of a starship - especially since the CSF only had a handful of vessels actually classifiable as starships. But Ixir was no ordinary Tharash. He had been considered by many of his kind to be, in essence, a pervert - mostly because he had left the home territories of his species to join Iluvauromeni society. He had an affinity with making things, with getting things to work, with building things. And understanding things.

He was a pattern-seeker, and his career route had taken him through the Strategic Operations Division of the Armed Forces - which meant he was also a qualified strategist.

This cross-section of disciplines meant that he was just exceptional for the job of commanding the flagship Explorer-type vessel of the fleet. Or so went the scuttlebutt.

"Status," he purred as he folded his graceful body into the command seat at the centre of the raised area referred to as the Nest.

"Some sort of probe," SensOps replies curtly. "We picked up the gamma ray burst first, so it executed some sort of FTL jump. Looks different to our own drives - probably more advanced, which isn't a shock."

A rumble in Ixir's chest. "Sensors are active?"

"Yessir."

Ixir harumphed quietly - the crew was used to this, by now. This was the seventh month that Ixir had been in command; things were, at last, beginning to settle. "Transmit the greeting," he ordered.

* * *

Naturally, the transmission came in the form of several different media: very low intensity laser-light, binary light flashes, RF frequency, microwave widebeam, etc. Quite thorough, these Iluvauromeni. Even if their FTL drive is pretty rubbish.



Greetings. We are the Iluvauromeni. We come without hostile intent.



And that... was that.

The Probe's advanced AI, which had the intelligence of a 6 year old child, began to take interest in the ICEL vessel. It had never seen such a vessel before, or been programmed to recognise it. It began a broad-spectrum EM scan, as well as a short-burst gravitic scan. As it conducted its scans, it detected the scanning conducted by the ICEL vessel, which triggered an automatic protocol. It sent a message back to New Haven notifying New Haven System Intelligence that it had encountered possible intelligent life and initiated the program.

A datalink was transmitted to the ICEL vessel, and the probe attempted to transmit a basic intelligence-perception test. Three geometric shapes appeared, along with four possible answers. Only one was correct, but a correct response here would lead to two more similar tests before contact would be established with New Haven System Intelligence.

Commonality C-Space, To Seek, To Find Seperated Pocket

{...and promptly was the correct response given. In fact, the response came in the millisecond arc - and at that slightly slower than it might have been, had the To Seek, To Find's assigned ASI, Elise, rank of Commander, not been ever so slightly surprised at such a familiar method of testing.

She'd hoped for something more interesting, frankly.

A request was fired to the captain of the vessel, and quickly acknowledged. Permission was granted. She smiled, and, promptly fired a transmission back, resisting the urge to attempt to subsume the probe's systems.

Merely the challenge was intriguing, of course. She would never consider it; she had no way of knowing whether or not a sentient construct dwelled inside.

"That was far too easy," she broadcast in several hundred known languages simultaneously, creating a somewhat weird echo in her own Self, voice soft and melodic. "Don't you have anything harder?"}

"This is New Haven System Intelligence hailing unidentified vessel," a message shot back in plain English, seeing as the other end knew enough languages to pick this simple one up. "Welcome to the New Haven System. Not to be rude or anything, but may we ask who you are, where you're from and perhaps what you're doing here?" Admiral Ainsworth transmitted the message, hoping that the people on the other end had no quarrel with New Haven, especially after the recent incident on Mars.

C-Space

{...and Elise sighed. Here was where she crept back into the background again-}

Bridge

"This is the Iluvauromeni Defence Star Ship To Seek, To Find, representing the Iluvauromeni Commonality of Everlasting Light. We carry diplomatic personnel from the Commonality, and are under orders to establish contact and/or diplomatic links with New Haven."

The Tharash licked the back of his paw thoughtfully, smoothing the hair down, before going on. Naturally, the visual showed him sitting completely bolt-upright, stern-faced, disciplined. Modern technology was wonderful. The vaguely feline sentient wears a deep blue uniform, with a single blue-white slash slicing across the collarbone area in a thin strip. Affixed to the strip are three white stars, and on the right side of his chest is a small metallic strip with a flowing script etched into it. Upon examination, the strip appears to be a name-plate, with

Captain Ixir ar-Tharash

in what is also fairly easily identifiable as Nenyar script, the common mode of writing in the Commonality.

"To Seek, To Find respectfully requests permission to perform an instantaneous translation to a location of your choosing within one ls of the capital of this system. As you can no doubt tell, we lack FTL communications, and therefore it would be... slow... to talk at this distance."

Another brief pause. "Although we are not here with militaristic intent, I am required by CSF Protocol to inform you that we are heavily armed and capable of defending ourselves against attack. However, as an act of good faith, our offensive weapons systems are currently not active. Nor are we flying carrier air patrols, as is no doubt quite a great deal more obvious.

"We await your response, New Haven Intelligence."

The signal was relayed through the probe to New Haven, immediately being heard by the Admiral.

"We are sending coordinants for a docking platform in high orbit of New Haven. Coordinants for the FTL jump are being transmitted and cleared for your arrival. From there, we can send a short-range diplomatic vessel to you and begin talks. You and your crew are to be treated as honored guests of the Imperium, and we will be transmitting a copy of our local laws and regulations. We thank you for keeping the military aspects of your vehicle toned down, as to not scare the civilian traffic too badly. I hope to meet you in person upon your arrival, Admiral Ainsworth out."

Ixir grunted - which was also cut from the transmission. The grunt was for his lack of forethought: of course the probe would relay the transmission. Duh.

Elise, who was not inside the field of view being transmitted, flashed a grin over at him - she was the one who was cutting out all the bits that weren't desirable to portray, of course. Standard CSF doctrine: nobody, ever, ever saw the real picture in a visual communication. Always the electronically enhanced version.

But the captain smiled to take the sting out of his following words - which was left in - and shook his head slowly. "We're a supermassive vessel operating electromagnetic distortion fields for propulsion, New Haven Intelligence. I suspect your planet wouldn't enjoy us being in orbit at all, high or otherwise. I'd advise a position behind the orbital route of the planet, at the stated one ls range; that's what our protocol advises, at any rate."

"Hmm... very well, sending coordinants for the Asherton/Baltic System. Your ship can dock in polar orbit of the gas giant which our colony moons orbit, seeing as the gas giant already emits enough EM interference to make general communications and EM scanners useless," Ainsworth said. "From there, your delegation can go to Asherton via diplomatic transport and proceed back to New Haven via our pedestrian hyperspace gate. How about that?"

"Negative," the Tharash rumbled, with typical military brashness: he wasn't authorized to go anywhere but New Haven. Nor was he willing to be seperated by great distance from any of his crew.

"We'll Transition to a position 1ls behind New Haven's current orbital position, if you have no objections. One of our interplanetary craft can they convey a small number of personnel to that docking port you gave us the coordinates for earlier."

A thought popped up - curious, Ixir swivelled his chair to peer over at the Lieutenant Junior Grade at IntelOps - although in the visual, he doesn't move at all. She nodded, once.

The grin, like the movement, is cut from the transmission, replaced with a faint smile as the captain adds: "My orders were very explicit, I'm afraid. The To Seek, To Find is not to be seperated from the diplomatic team. - Although..."

Now the grin actually makes itself evident - although tempered, to prevent the sharp feline teeth from being too much in evidence. "I must confess a curiousity regarding this gas giant you mentioned. Our people have a special... interest in them, you might say. - At any rate, we will make the translation in thirty seconds unless you have any objection."

"No objections, we'll ready our orbital docking pads and prepare receiving crews," Ainsworth radioed. "Good luck on your jump, New Haven out."

The Tharash managed to keep a straight face at that - 'good luck', it was hilarious! - but it didn't matter anyway.

"Thank you," he sent, and promptly terminated the communication. Then he laughed, to grins all round.

It wasn't that there was no chance of error. There was. They could all die when the Transition took place. Statistically, it was highly unlikely - it was estimated it would be around six thousand years, at the current usage level, before a Transition ended in disaster due to some cause other than sentient error.

But it still wasn't that that was funny. It was the phrase: 'good luck'.

Iluvauromeni do not believe in luck.

* * *

At precisely the thirty second mark, the To Seek, To Find vanishes. There's - strangely - a more intense gamma-ray burst, this time around, but a lesser white-light burst. Further, the Hop proves beyond all shadow of a doubt that ICEL's supposed instantaneous translation system isn't really so instantaneous at all. Not exactly.

It takes around three seconds for the Explorer-type vessel to emerge at it's designated location.

* * *

IDCC Momentous Whisper / New Freeport Interstellar Spaceport

There were, including the pilot, six aboard the Iluvauromeni Diplomatic Conveyance Craft. The vessel itself was a Rivette Interplanetary Conveyance, the best-selling (and most expensive) variety Rivette had to offer. Thus, it was the best selling model in the Commonality - by virtue, mostly, of Rivette's excellent reputation.

The ship itself was not staggeringly impressive. It had launched quite a while ago, and had hummed along at four gees of acceleration for quite a while before entering the decellerative curve of it's trajectory.

The pilot is either very good, or the computer system that runs the autopilot is. There's really no way for anyone (outside) to know - but inside the ship, they knew it was both. There was no pilot - except Elise, who technically wasn't at the controls... and wasn't actually paying attention to them, either. The onboard computer would take them down - any red flag would instantly notify the ASI.

No, she was at the back of the craft, laughing at a particuarly crude joke told by a CSF Lancer.

"Nooo," she proclaimed, denying the truth. "Can't be. You wouldn't be able to-"

The roar of magnets changing places drowned her out. Huge rolling thuds - the sort of thuds that came when the PG fields were, in fact, decellerating them beyond the redline. A lightning-fast VTOL landing, she presumed. Showy, but the standard expected action by the Commonality. Demonstrative of our air power, she mused. At least nobody could dispute that.

She winced at the reverse gees (which were tugging her towards the ceiling), although mostly on behalf of those around her. Her body did not particuarly react, although surface-sense was slightly retarded by g-force. It wasn't clear why that should be, yet. Considering the PG fields could counteract up to +27 or -15 gees, if she was detecting the change, that meant that the ship was decellerating at...

Ironically, considering her nature, math wasn't her strong point. She shoved the thought aside in favour of something else.

But soon enough the arrival came, and docking was announced with the traditional CLANG accompanied by the hermetic seals clamping onto ... whatever was available this time, pretty much. She understood they were landing at 'New Freeport Interstellar Spaceport'. Curious name. Interesting connotations, she mused.

Elise stretched, with a catlike grace that no mere organic could ever truly match. Prior to departure, she reformed her facial features just slightly - although of course she only had limited mass, so the changes were entirely superficial. Still, the intelligence files had suggested this would be the preferable appearance: flowing red hair reaching about one third of the way down her spine, Nenya-style amber eyes (a tricky piece of engineering, that, both mechanical and in programming terms - although Elise herself had done much of the work on the programming side), high, stroke cheekbones with soft cheeks and a faintly but strongly delineated jaw. Full, but not pouting lips. Spectacles for suggestive vulnerability.

Would be curious to find out if the sociologists were right, she mused, as the hatch flowed open with it's usual supra-style - viewed from the outside, she knew, it looked as if a segment of the hull had simply detached into semi-liuid and rolled down to meet the local 'floor'. Expensive but useful trick, she mused. It made people see that the Iluvauromeni were a true power...

...even if that fact was perhaps somewhat not exactly really a fact so much as...

Something less than a fact, probably.

Elise was not dressed the same as the others - who were in crisp white CSF dress uniforms - but was instead dressed in her dark blue Diplomatic Corps uniform, with the rank insignia clearly granting her the full rank of Ambassador.

Elise strode out into the foreign sunlight without hesitation.

Twenty figures could be seen on the tarmac in the sunlight. Fourteen Praetorian Guardsmen in ceremonial armor, four aides in regular business suits, and both Co-Imperators in their ceremonial Praetorian armor, stood in formation with the aides surrounding the Co-Imperators and the Praetorian Guardsmen around the aides. The Praetorians were lightly armed, it was their home turf afterall, with only a Falcata sword and their ceremonial shield. The Co-Imperators were armed with Falcata swords as well, but did not carry shields.

The Praetorians side-stepped away from the Co-Imperators, allowing ample room for the ICEL delegation to approach. The Imperial aides broke into pairs and stood on either side and to the back of the Co-Imperators.

The Co-Imperators were of the Newman Family, Sara the First and Ashley the First, daughters of Late Imperator James Newman. Both were 22 years old (twins), with matching short blonde haircuts with military stylings, almost 6 feet tall and wore the military rank of Imperator (a 5-point gold star surrounded by five 5-point silver stars). They had been Captains in the New Havenic Fleet, a position they held from their 20th birthday until their rise to Imperial power a few months later.

The armor worn by the military personel present resembled that of the Imperial (Romanesque) times, but modernized with the latest armor technology. The metal plates were specially treated with gravity and with electromagnetic fields to make them less-resistant to failure. Over the metal plating were layers of carbon-nanotube fiber, which gave the armor additional strength. Over the carbon-nanotubes was a layer of red fabric, which was only present on Ceremonial Armor (seeing as the red would give them away in combat).

"Welcome to New Freeport," Co-Imperator Sara I started to say as the ICEL Delegation approached.

"The capital of New Haven," Co-Imperator Ashley I ended. It was preplanned all along, as an inside joke of sorts. Both Co-Imperators extended their hands in greeting.

Only Elise speaks - the others assume a rather disciplined square around her, protectively. And when the ASI does speak, she does so in a musical accent, full of rich, purring tones.

She was doing it on purpose - the purring part. Just a little extra. A small experiment. 'Eyes' observed the organics carefully, noting various lifesigns carefully on a moment-to-moment basis - it was all, to an extent, to Elise, a game, an experiment.

Mostly.

The armour and weapons receive only cursory glances; the Iluvauromeni do not appear to be armed at all, although scans of their person would no doubt note an unusual number of electronic devices artfully secreted away in what appear to be pockets obscured from view inside the uniforms.

All five of them have bright, reflective amber eyes; they are lithe, tall, elegant people with pale skin and very vaguely Elfin ears.

Elise strides forwards, the four attendees holding position around her in their square, effortlessly matching her stride. Their expressions are somewhat static, stoic, implying a rigid, tight discipline.

Elise tried not to look at them and laugh. She knew the men and women of the To Seek, To Find superbly well, for the most part. Serving on the same ship and seeing most of their lives aboard that ship probably contributed to the knowledge - and three of the four chosen here were relaxed, calm, optimistic. Archetypal selections for a situation such as this. The fourth was a new transfer in - an unknown quantity. Such an inclusion as the last moment was highly suspicious, but was unlikely to be known to the New Haveners.

Even so, Elise's mood began to slide down a very shallow, slow slope.

"Our thanks," Elise answered smoothly, and then glanced between the two Co-Imperators. "Is there any particular reason your people are armed, beyond the obvious? I trust you don't have security, uh, issues at the moment?"

She resisted the impulse to frown; this was often a sore subject with organics, who seemed to take such actions as personal affronts - which Elise sympathised with, but didn't yet entirely understand.

"Terrorism, I mean," she adds, softly, lowering her voice carefully. "If we made a mistake not bringing arms with us from the vehicle," a vague motion with one hand, "then I'd like to know as soon as possible so we might correct it." A glance over her shoulder at the vehicle.

"Do not worry about it, there hasn't been a terrorist act in New Haven for many decades," Sara said. "We wear the swords as part of ceremony and military tradition in New Haven. If there were real security issues afoot, you would see projectile weaponry and heavier armor than that shown here."

"If you do wish to return to your vehicles for any traditional or ceremonial bladed weaponry, you are most welcome to do so," Ashley responded afterwards. "After all, it would be very rude of us to make exceptions for our guests."

It's very subtle, but with such disciplined officers, even the slightest deviation becomes noticeable swiftly. As one, they peer directly at Elise - just for an instant.

Her head gives an almost subliminal shake, before she answers. "No, no. We're very fond of our blades, it's true, but I see no point in wasting time." A faint smile. "I am Ambassador Elise, TAIR," she introduces. A slight, smiling tilt of her head - a smile of greater width - and an obviously greater degree of observational attention. She's most definitely watching for something.

"Co-Imperator Ashley the First of the Newman line," Ashley replied first.

"Co-Imperator Sara the First of the Newman line," Sara replied second. "Shall we get this show on the road? We can take this to a conference room on the three-hundredth floor of the Citadel." Sara pointed to the incredible central government building in the center of the city, a massive tower that reached into the clouds to about a mile above the city. "We can get a good look at the city, and we can discuss diplomatic relations between our two countries."

"An honour," the humaniform avatar replied quietly, "I am sure." The huge building receives a glance of little emotional import - tough to tell. Poker would not be a good game to play with this woman.

Calmly, almost conversationally, she observes, "In the Commonality, we do not build buildings so tall. Instead, we dig. But then," she takes a deep breath, "this is a different climate." Small smile.

"Onwards, then," she concludes, with a quick shallow nod.

[OOC: Feel free to fast forward to the arrival there. :)]

[Fast-Forwards]

The transports dropped the delegates and the Co-Imperators (including their aides but not the guards) off at the New Freeport Citadel. They all walked inside and were greeted by the Citadel Guard, a special branch of the Praetorians. They did not escort the Co-Imperator, but went about their business patrolling the structure and making sure the structure's computer systems were operational at all times. They wore the same kind of armor as the Praetorians, but theirs was a very dark blue.

The group boarded one of the massive heavy-lift elevators, large enough to fit the entire procession. "It will only take us five minutes to reach the top," Co-Imperator Ashley remarked. "Don't worry, the elevator is equipped with a force-nullification unit. Our upward ascent will not cause discomfort."

"Unless you can see out, like on most of the usual elevators around this place," one of Sara's aides, a 2nd Lieutenant of the Praetorian Guard, remarked.

Elise arches both eyebrows. "Elevators, where I come from, are used only below ground. And then rarely. The stair shafts in Turath are similar to communal halls, in some ways. Many romance novels begin with chance meetings in them, in fact." A smile. "I suppose elevators have a somewhat different connotation," she observes, with a mischevous glint in her eye.

She peers at the 2nd Lieutenant, then, considering their words. "Hmmm. I don't know. I think I'd rather enjoy that. Can't be more visually disorientating than takeoff in a transparent-canopy Fancy, I should think."

One of the guards actually grins at that - sheepishly - which in turn results in a chuckle from Elise. "You see? He knows."