NationStates Jolt Archive

(OOC: closed RP, there may be room for others later, you know who you are)

The small, streamlined craft shot through space, its four engines burning furiously. The corvette was performing a standard galactic survey, this time of the galaxy designated QCX-882, but known by many of the inhabitants of the galaxy as simply, “The milky way.” The vessel’s crew was just beginning its first series of rift jumps through the galaxy when the crew noticed an irregularity.
(Translated to English for ease of comprehension)
“Sir, we have detected evidence of intelligent life, approximately as advanced as we are.”
“Confirmed ensign, comms send a message home, ‘galaxy QCX-882 is inhabited, proceeding to investigate further.’ Helm, plot course for this location, XO, rig for stealth running.”
Several calls of “Aye, sir” rang throughout the bridge as the small craft slowly maneuvered onto its new heading, flared its engines for a moment, and cut them to minimize the chance of detection on its first pass. The Loki class corvette is a highly sophisticated piece of weaponry, not particularly suited to stealth flybys of unidentified planets, but at that moment, it was the ship with the smallest mass shadow that the government could provide for these fact-finding missions. Within minutes, the craft was in sensor range of the planet in question, and had begun passively scanning it, as it whipped past at around 45,000km/s.
“Comms, I need to send a message to command, encryption level 8, route it through to my ready room”
“Aye sir, begin transmitting when you are ready.”
The captain stepped into a small room just off the bridge, sealed the door, and began to speak into the transmitter.
“Command, this is commander Jarvis of the BCV Hesphestus, registry 97C8-3, We have discovered sentient, possibly dangerous life in galaxy QCX-882, requesting further instructions and backup, preferably including a first contact team.” The captain sent the message, and got up to return to the bridge.
“Helm, bring us behind an asteroid in the outer system and cut engines while we await response from command.”
“Yes sir, changing course now.”
The small vessel swung around, approached a large asteroid, and came to a stop in its mass shadow.

--4 earth standard hours later—

In his cabin, the captain listened to Command’s response: “…will be sending a pair of Columbia Destroyers to assist you, one will have a first encounter team, their estimated arrival should be in about 14 cycles from the time you receive this message.”

--8 earth standard hours later—

“This is the BCV Arakis to BCV Hesphestus, we have arrived.”
“Roger that Arakis, this is commander Jarvis of the Hesphestus…”
Moments later, two ships jumped in, dwarfing the small corvette.

*Encrypted communication between Emerald City port authority and Religious caste officials*

ECPA: This is Eshin, director of the ECPA. I need to speak to the Lao-tzu.
RCO: I'm afraid that he is not available at the moment. May I ask the reason for your call?
ECPA: The hell? The reason? Two Large Unidentified contacts just emerged a few lightseconds away, following ghost-sensor recordings in roughly the same area. Send the Navy, ASAP!
RCO: Please hold.
ECPA:What? I don't believe this!
*at this point the ISIS battlenet is added to the conversation*
ISIS: Eshin. Everything is under control. I've scrambled several warships to the vessels location.
RCO: On whose authority?
ISIS: I'm granted authority to deal with security issues. This falls within my jurisdiction. Eshin. Have you opened up communications with the vessels at all? Any information is useful.
ECPA: Not yet. Should I?
ISIS: I can't see the harm. Ensure them that we don't intend to attack, and are sending diplomats to speak.
ECPA: OK.... getting a return. Er, they confirm, and are holding position. That's good, right?
ISIS: Seems that way.I'll take over from here, the ships are arriving. Thank you.
ECPA: ....Sure. Whatever.
*ECPA closes link.*
*ISIS closes link*
*RCO closes link*

As two Jordaxian Nonsequitors, their flat saucer-shapes suddenly appearing against the blackness of space, exited hyperspace, sensors scanning wildly to build a picture of the area, ISIS had just finished a short briefing of the diplomat onboard, should she even be allowed access to the alien vessel. Kusala was old, even by Jordaxian standards, closing in on her 650th birthday. She had spent years drifting from one system to another, an experience which made her quite adept when it comes to defusing situations between unfamiliar cultures - though she grimaced at the memory of one dealing in a particularly shady bar going down in what could be generously described as an unsatisfactory outcome. Her grey hair hung loosely down the back of her head and draped over her shoulders, as the light blue robes hung on her like a dignified stateswoman of the ancient times. Deciding that there was no point in wasting time, she requested a comm-link be opened to the vessel, and spoke clearly and confidently into the unknown.

"I am Kusala, representative of the religious/bureaucratic caste, Eternal Empire of Jordaxia. You have entered our territory - we are not hostile.Please identify yourselves and state your purpose. Kusala out."

OOC: Blademasters! Good to see you again. You still using Andromedan tech? Anyway, tag.

OOC: Not still using Andromeda tech, no, but hey!

The message was received by the communications relay on the Columbia class Destroyer, Eris. The translation software began to decode the transmission, and then stopped, realizing that this language was already on file. It quickly set up a translation protocol, and informed the ambassador that all was ready. Ambassador Jerek Kythall, the only diplomat in the entire Blademasterian Empire, was standing in his suite. He was quite bothered that he had actually had to go to work just over 23 cycles ago, because he was quite used to the idea of staying home and living off of a government salary. But now that the Empire had discovered other life, his job might actually entail doing something… this was a most troubling thought. After reviewing the transmission, he worked up a response, and prepared to transmit it.

“Greetings, Kusala of the Empire of Jordaxia. I am Jerek Kythall of the Blademasterian Diplomatic Corps. I represent the Ancient Empire of Blademasters, and am pleased to be the first one of my Empire to make contact with yours. If it is convenient, we would wish to meet with you onboard our vessel.”

He supposed that would do, for now, and shut down the transmitter. Jerek was the commanding officer aboard the Eris when she was not engaged in military activities, but he did feel the urge to notify the captain that they might be receiving an alien visitor soon, and to make the hangar look presentable, and get the honor guard ready. He wondered how these aliens would size up compared with the average Blademasterian, and assumed by their high-pitched voice that they would be much smaller, maybe a meter and a half, not even half of his 3.6 meter height, and he wasn’t exactly tall for a Blademasterian.

Several minutes after Kusala had sent a confirmatory message to the Blademasterians, a small, shimmering tinted circle appeared, centimetres across at first, quickly expanding, consuming the surrounding space until it reached twelve metres in diameter. Hanging in space, looking through, a tiny empty flight deck was visible, except for a single spherical vessel. Behind it, a glass panel shown several Jordaxians stood before computer screens. The spherical ship rose from the metal grate flooring, docking clamps releasing it as it drifted forward, emerging from the circular opening. The moment it cleared, the opening collapsed in on itself, disappearing in a tiny, near invisible point of light, leaving only the featureless, dull turquoise metal sphere hanging in the void.


Inside, Kusala sat in a small acceleration seat, webbing encasing her torso as he ship began to rapidly speed towards its target, g-forces pressing on her aging limbs. In front of her face hung a small videoscreen, relaying footage from outside the hull back to her as the little shuttles computer directed itself towards the alien vessel that had invited her aboard.

As she entered the shuttle bay, maneouvring thrusters firing gently to steady the spheres landing, three small legs unfurled from the bottom, and, bending at the weight, provided a surface for the sphere to rest on. Inside the red-lit body, Kusala released the thick webbing, and attached the bulky square portable gravity generator necessary for her to survive in the generally stronger alien gravity fields. Standing as best she could in the small cramped chamber, she triggered the doors, and watched as below her feet, a panel slid away leading to a narrow, unlit staircase. At the bottom of the steps, a bright light burned its way inside, and she walked down into it, into the hanger bay of the foreigners vessel.

Standing to her full height, she noticed almost immediately a defining common feature between them - their height. After centuries of living in a zero-gravity environment, and an abortive genetic engineering programme to adapt the human body to the environment, Jordaxians now routinely stretched to great heights, spindly bodies towering above most other humans, at fourteen feet. Kusala did not reach so high, though, tipping at twelve. As her bare feet padded on the metal ground of the hanger, she held a hand to ward off the lights shining above as her eyes adjusted from her trip in the almost unlit shuttle. She waited for a representative to present themselves, and begin talks.

Jerek watched the shuttle settle itself down in the Eris’s hangar bay, and watched the spindly creature step out.

“How odd, I expected them to be shorter.” He muttered to an aide.

Jerek and his entourage stepped out onto the hangar deck, the honor guard quickly forming ranks behind him. As he approached the representative, he tried to gauge its reactions. The honor guard’s heavy footfalls rang out across the deck, in perfect step with each other, and the few mechanics and pilots in fighter alcoves around the cavernous bay who were not already looking at this alien craft and the diplomatic entourage now turned, amazed to see an alien aboard their ship.

“Where do you think that thing came from?” Lieutenant Eriks Knight, one of the fighter pilots aboard the Eris whispered to his mechanic, as they re-calibrated the fighter’s main guns.

“Not sure, but its really skinny, bet it’d snap in half if I punched it, sir.” His mechanic replied, before reaching into his toolkit.

“Hey, Jerek’s saying something, stop making noise.”

“Greetings, Kusala of the Jordaxian empire, I am Jerek Kythall, welcome aboard the Eris.”

Jerek made a short bow, and then stepped back, awaiting the foreign diplomat’s response.

"Jerek Kythall. Thank you for your welcome. I also welcome you to the Eternal Empire on behalf of the Religious/Bureaucratic caste." Kusala said formally, pronouncing each word perfectly. Kusala bowed low, the robes shifting about her body as they re-adjusted. She stood back up slowly, and continued. "I'm afraid you must forgive our lack of preparedness. As you will be aware, We had no time to prepare a more... complete briefing. Nevertheless, I have authority to agree - or disagree - to most proposals on behalf of the Religious/Bureaucratic caste. Do you have anywhere we might conduct our talk?"

"Lack of preparedness?" ISIS interjected tartly through Kusalas neurites, as she started slightly. "I'm hurt. You should know it's standard procedure in these "rapid contacts" for me to brief you as you speak. You're a good multi-tasker, right?"

"ISIS. You startled me. You know I'll never get used to this kind of talking."

"It's not as if I can read your thoughts, remember." Came the response. "Besides, if I wasn't here to guide you to all the necessary little facts, this entire meeting of yours would collapse rather quickly, no?"

Kusala grimaced slightly, realising too late that she was projecting her reactions to ISIS physically. Jerek would probably think she was mad, if he hadn't figured out she was speaking to someone else. Hardly the best first impression.

"You're right. But try and give me some warning next time. I don't want to give the impression I've got bickering personalities."

"Don't worry about it. Remember, when you're using the neurites, you work a lot faster. He might think you've got a bit of a twitching problem though..."

"Great. That's what I want people to think."

As silence filtered through the comm channel, Kusala dropped out of her neurite vision, and returned to the conversation, awaiting Jereks answer.

The Crimson Spire burst out of the wormhole to see alien vessles

"sire unidentifed alien crafts ahead, scanning now" shouted Ensign Valeri

Captain Kamichi (Formerly Ensign Kamichi) looked out at the two craft, his own vessel the Crimson Spire , was a captured AKKALABETH vessel from the Bekhaeran Space war which he served under Visceroy Palmer

http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b297/Ryan_kamichi/NATIONSTATES/Dreadnaught_A.jpg

Thsi ship was technologically superior to many nations, as it was created by the creators of races themselves, teh AKKALABETH

"open transmisson fequencies and relay this message, *this the Crimson Spire, of the Bekhaeran Space Fleet, who are you?" said Kamichi, his tone had gotten more angrier of late, he had been accused of murdering the AKKALABETH by anti war leaders... he knew he had doen what ws right in fighting to save even them, from slavery, but it got to him a lot lately

Jerek noticed the diplomat twitching, but decided to make nothing of it.

“Of course we do, if you’ll follow me, our conference center is right his way.”

Jerek swept his arm towards a hatch, and as the two began to walk, the honor guard re-formed its phalanx behind him. As Jerek’s robes rustled, they afforded occasional views of his clawed feet. He moved his inner arms into the folds of his robes, and his outer arms hung by his sides. His tendril-like hair swayed as he stepped, and he turned his head to face the diplomat as they walked, gesturing with his inner arms as he began to explain the Eris, and her operations.

“The Eris is one of our smaller warships in the Blademasterian Empire. As you can see, we can deploy several fightercraft to assist us should we be attacked.”

Jerek gestures vaguely in the direction of the port fighter alcoves, which are filled with various small attack ships, some in various states of disrepair as mechanics poke around inside them.

“The Eris uses an advanced gravity system, which simulates the effects of our world’s gravity, but if we need to work in zero-gee on a certain component, or to perform a certain repair, we can isolate individuals for a short period of time so that they can access areas that would otherwise be hard to reach.”

As they pass through a hatchway, Jerek points at a worker who appears to be floating on the ceiling, his head poked through an access hatch. The blue glow of an arc-welding torch can be seen out of the hatch.

“The conference room is just ahead here, but before we get there, if you have sensitivity to light, we will need to make some adjustments, normally we have the view screens set to display the matter-antimatter reactions in one of our reactors, but despite its beauty, it can be quite bright.”

Jerek stopped by a control panel, and the honor guard dispersed around the two diplomats, to still allow easy passage through the hall, but keep the diplomats from being in the way themselves.

Kusala watched as the alien gave its tour of the flight decks on the way to conference room - not at the ship, however, the barrage of technology failing to catch her interest in any way, but at the people. They were certainly a unique species, with their four arms, thick fleshy hair, and reptilian skin. Some might even consider their face horrific, though Kusala considered herself above such fickle judgements, especially since they were just as likely to consider her own shape repulsive. Bringing herself back to the present, and Jereks question, she responded.

"No, I don't have any particular sensitivity to light - thank you though." Giving a small gracious smile at the courtesy offered, Kusala gestured for Jerek to continue. Pressing a button on the control panel, twin doors slid open silently down the corridor, bluish-tinted bright light streaming from the opening. As they walked through into the room, each of the large screens showing the same image. The flood of light made the entire room, to Kusala, seem like that instead of being in the bowels of an alien warship, they were sitting underneath the water as the sun shone down through at them - not a memory most Jordaxians have, but Kusala smiled slightly at it nonetheless.

Sitting at one end of the table, glad that for once the chairs came in a size she could sit in, even if they were not perfectly comfortable, Kusala waited for Jerek to begin, hoping that, unlike most first first contacts, her guests actually knew what they wanted.

Jerek slid into the seat at the other end of the table. It fit him perfectly, like always, it was, after all, his chair. The royal guard walked in, their armor glistening in teh blue-white light, as they lowered their weapons, and took up positions at the end of the table, behind Jerek. Thr room was rather utilitarian, with a long table in the center, with a chair at one end in which Jerek now sat, and several chairs at the other, in one of which was Kusala. There were four large screens on the wall opposite the double sliding doors, and they currently displayed a view of the main reactors' matter/antimatter annihilation.

Jerek was considering exactly how to phrase his question, when a chime sounded at the door.

"Come."

A tall, unarmored Blademasterian entered, his work clothes covered in grease. He glanced at Kusala, and then proceeded straight towards Jerek. The Blademasterian executed a shiort bow, and began to speak.

"Sir, The Hesphestus contacted us, they are experiencing containment problems. We have ordered them to move to a safe distance and standby to abandon ship."

Jerek switched off his translator before replying: "Thank you ensign, send the Columbia to assist, and keep the aliens away from the Hesphestus. If she has to be evacuated, I want her destroyed."

"Yes sir." The ensign turned on his heel, and strode out of the room, headed for the bridge.

Jerek switched his translator back on.

"Kusala, I feel I must inform you that one of our ships is experiencing minor problems. If you need to inform your vessels, please do so. Once you are ready, we would like to discuss something that will affect both our peoples."

In space, the Hesphestus recieved the message, and began to come about, igniting its thrusters to put distance between itself and the Eris. As the ship was beginnign to accelerate away, escape pods suddenly began streaming from the hull. Seconds later, a bright flash of blue-white light erupted from within the ship, and it exploded. The Columbia, already truning to assist the small ship, was hit by the shockwave. She had her shields up in time, and they absorbed the blast with ease, but the Hesphestus' escape pods were not so fortunate.

Onboard the Eris, the deck vibrated slightly, as the ship's shield generators were brought to capacity to absorb the shockwave. The Jordaxian vessels, further away, would not be affected by the blast, but the captain of the Columbia thought he would inform them anyway.

"Jordaxian vessels, this is Captain Kerrin of the Columbia, please be aware one of our vessels has experienced a containment failure. Columbia out."