NationStates Jolt Archive

AIV Olympia, en route to Than system via Avenal/Than jumpnode conduit

“Admiral’s log, AZ date 1.30.80.

The AIV Olympia is currently en route to Xanthalian space on an urgent matter. The Demons, a race of beings from beyond the rim of the galaxy, have invaded with an armada of ships, with the intent of destroying all life in the disk…starting with us.

We’ve been assigned to recruit some of our historical allies, Xanthal being one of the more…accessible of them. The problem is that we haven’t had any real open contact with Xanthal in decades, if not longer.

In other words, we have no idea what we’re in for”

“Computer, end log”

The computer beeped, indicating it was shutting off the recorder. Vega laid back in his chair in his ready room. He spun the chair around, turning to look out the window. Outside sat…blue. Lots of blue. Lots of rippling blue. Thus was the inside of a jump node. No stars, just a long blue tunnel of subspace energy, with white points at both ends.

Only a few minutes until they entered Xanthal space. Only a few minutes until they returned to being what Vega had always wanted the fleet to be. Explorers. Vega had spent far too much of his life fighting wars.

He only wished this bit of exploration wasn’t coming upon them BECAUSE of a war. And as crazy as it sounded, part of him wanted to be back in Zoir space, fighting alongside the rest of the ships in his fleet.

But…he had been given a personal order by the Empress. While technically she couldn’t forcibly give him one, it was both a matter of loyalty (and friendship) and the fact he knew she was right.

“Admiral, we’re approaching the Than system.” a female voice said over the intercom. He knew it to be Shara, the ship’s AI.

“Understood” Vega replied, getting up. He looked to be in his mid-to-late fourties by Terran standards (although he was actually much older, in his latter-mid hundreds), with a slightly receding hairline (white hair, as Atlantians had no hair pigmentation) and a beard.

The Admiral stepped out of his small office and onto the bridge. The bridge of a Leviathan class Dreadnought (a ship that measured out at about 1.5 kilometers in length) was actually a little smaller then one would expect for a ship of its size, only measuring out to be about the size of a Starfleet Nebula class bridge. Two stations (tactical and navigation) in front, sitting before a viewscreen, with a captain’s chair behind them. In between the three seats sat a small console for the AI to manifest a hologram. Behind the captain’s chair was another “level”, with two more stations (science and engineering) flanking the bridge, wrapped around by rails. On the other side of the rails were doors, one leading to the turbolift and the other leading to the ready room. Behind everything sat more consoles on the walls, and a map of the ship.

Tactical was being manned by Subcommander Xol. He was slightly older then Atlantia, but not by any noticeable difference. Yet despite his young age (only in the 80’s-90’s) he was one of the longest-lasing officers still onboard from the original Olympia, having served since the Neo-Atlantian incident.

Next to him at navigation was his wife, Subcommander Sing, having served on the ship even longer (back when she was a mere ensign), having lasted about as long as Xol.

Science was being manned by the current first officer, former chief of security, Commander Achilles. Engineering was vacant at the moment, as was Vega’s captain seat.

“Status?” Vega asked, already knowing the answer.

Sing spoke up. “We’re reaching the end of jump space, we’ll be entering the Than system within the next few minutes”

“Let’s hope someone’s home” Vega sat down. “I’d hate for this to be a wasted effort”

“Entering Than system” Achilles said.

Sure enough, the bright light at the end of the blue tunnel got bigger and bigger at last, until the light had engulphed the Atlantian Dreadnought.

A blue wormhole would open on the outskirts of the Than system, and a large Atlantian vessel would warp out of it. It was on yellow alert, meaning shields were up, but weapons were offline. It broadcasted to the entire system on a general channel, signaling the Xanthalians that Atlantis was in the system.

As a matter of convenience, the Labule generally employs its officers in the system of their normal residence when possible. This has the benefit of putting personnel close to home; facilitating correspondence with family and allowing them to make the most out of sometimes-brief periods of shore leave, as well as adding a personal stake in the defense of the territory. One of the latent functions of this system, however, is that each system's defense forces tend to have subtly distinct ways of conducting operations, though they all work from the same rulebook. Even though over 80% of the Than System is populated by, well, than, only one of its three defense fleets is led by a member of that insectoid species. The reason for the under representation is that the position of bomowąs is generally regarded as requiring diplomatic as well as command credentials, since admirals represent their entire fleet, and Xanthal itself by extension when a commissioned ambassador is unavailable. In practice this works out to be only partially true, but as they say, perception shapes reality, and the nearly-complete lack of than who are competent in both war and peace coupled with their physical inability to speak English (or Mirfakan, for that matter) does not well serve those of them seeking positions above mănowąs, or captain, to use the Standard naval equivalent.

One of the flaws in the idea that an admiral will be the likely person to initiate first contact is that with all but fleets of the highest integrity, there is only a marginal chance that a flagship will be in real-time communications range of an incoming ship. As a result, it frequently falls to mănowąsi to “hold the phone” until a bomowąs arrives, who will then entertain the guest until a professional diplomat can take over. Such is the case here; and when the Olympia jumps into Than, dangerously close to Sohlass, a small, desolate planet that is still more than big enough to utterly destroy any ship that may fall to its surface, KLZ-610 is the closest Triumvirate vessel. Its captain is, however, off duty when the incident occurs, leaving the third shift commander to watch the viewscreen intently as the Atlantian crew skillfully turns a collision course into a low orbit. It is quite rare to see this particular aperture used; though the Than System has come to expect the occasional merchant vessel from Atlantis since the civil war ended. To make an entrance during the convergence of orbits though, this crew must have important business indeed, if they are not simply uninformed. The bridge crew, for the most part, offers no reaction to the sudden appearance or recovery of the Olympia, which is normal since they are all than, and their exoskeletal structure makes their faces understandably difficult to read. The one bridge officer who is not, a tellarite female, utters a strong curse of admiration at the spectacle. The first order of business is obvious. The commander, a mątsut and an emerald than, hits the intercom and issues a string of clicks, hisses, and screeches that, if need required, would be translated roughly to “Captain, report to the bridge.”

The Than System is compact, with seven planets occupying a radius of just over two hundred million kilometers. The star itself is the reason; as a blue dwarf, its satellites need to be close to stay in orbit. Its inhabited planets need to be even closer to get the heat they need, and it doesn’t help that most of the radiation is well above the violet spectrum; making Than a permanent residence only for the hardiest of species. Its outer planet is listed under the name Sohlass on most English maps. The next planet in, Wakimaishu, the original homeworld of the than, orbits less than a hundred million kilometers from the sun, putting a huge void between the densely-packed inner system and lonely Sohlass. The system has no outer asteroid belt, it having been stripped of its useful metals and the remains used as a convenient source of mass for molecular converters in the days of the Socialist Empire, the same fate later shared by the system’s inner belts during the first century of the Age of Disunion. The latter have been replaced with the broken fragments of war ships and their crews that now litter the space between the fourth and sixth planets, a sobering reminder of the Thanic Civil War that ended fully a century ago. The inner system is primarily the domain of Than’s planetary defense fleets, or what’s left of them with so many Labule ships reassigned to Mirfak these days. The outer system, then, is patrolled by the larger system defense fleet, of which KLZ-610 is a part.

The Mănowąs is a than, same as the commander of the third shift, but with the green shell, crushing mandibles, and large, powerful hands of the warrior breed. Its proper name is one a human could only try to pronounce, but because every thanic name has a literal meaning, they can be translated. In Mirfakan the captain is Mastek Slăl, in English Sword of Love. Sla will answer to any of the above. The one and a half meter tall antlike creature, like many of its kind, is just as or more comfortable on its feet as it is sitting down, but sits out of respect for protocol, taking the seat vacated by the shift commander upon its arrival. KLZ-610 is a Ləsu type, so its bridge is marginally more spacious than that of the infamously-cramped Jəl model (which consists entirely of consoles and chairs sunk into the floor, with a low ceiling, a hallway down the center just wide enough for two skinny individuals to brush past one another sideways, and a view screen wrapped around the entire thing like an oversized fighter jet canopy). This addition of personal space is of little concern to than, but most species appreciate it. Nevertheless, the room remains very tight, meaning it doesn’t take much more than a whisper for even the dull hearing of a human to pick up from anywhere in its confines. This fact does not stop Sla from using the full force of its voice.

[The following exchange has been translated from Than for reader convenience.]

“Ready weapons and take sensor readings. What is the type of that ship?” the Captain demands. Shields are online already and the flagship has been called for, as per standard procedure.

The communications officer, the aforementioned tellarite, replies curtly. “They are signaling as a Leviathan class Dreadnought of the Imperial Federation of Atlantis, identification AIV Olympia. Hull design is consistent.”

“Send this message in English: Xanthalian Labule Starship 610 to AIV Olympia. Deactivate your weapons, shields, and active sensors and stand by.”

It’s not a very warm greeting, but as a lowly captain Sword is obligated to keep its contact with the strangers to a minimum. The Than don’t have much love for outsiders, and outsiders that come bearing arms without invitation are even less welcome.

The Olympia jumped in…

…to find itself flying into a planet.

“Holy…” Xol trailed off, at the sight of the dead world ahead.

“FULL TURN!” Vega ordered, although Sing was already on it. “FULL TO PORT!”

The massive behemoth of a vessel (one of the largest in the fleet) turned. HARD. Almost to the point where one would wonder if the ship was really as big as it was, and not something the size of a mere cruiser. If one could describe an Atlantian vessel, one would more then half the time use “fish” or “bird” in the description, or perhaps a combination of the two. A shark that flew like an eagle. One that was silver, with areas with blue hues that indicated weapons and engines.

True to it’s flying-shark design, the Leviathan class AIV Olympia moved out of the collision course and assumed a low holding orbit with the planet. Sing had just wiped her forehead of sweat when the message had come in.

“Xanthalian Labule Starship 610 to AIV Olympia. Deactivate your weapons, shields, and active sensors and stand by”

Vega sighed. This was going to be fun. Oh well, it wasn’t like he had expected a welcome party.

“Do it” he said to Xol.

The tactical officer swiveled around in his chair, looking slightly insulted. “Take down our shields and sensors? We’ll be completely blind and naked! I’m already at odds about having to go in without weapons hot!”

“I don’t like it any more then you do” Vega said, “But you remember why we’re here. We’ll just have to trust they won’t blow us out of the sky”

“…not even ablative armor?”

“No”

Xol sighed, and turned back around, preparing to lower…everything.

“All hands to escape pods” Achillies joked, sarcasticly. Vega glared at him from out of the corner of his eye. He pressed a small button on his seat’s armrest as Xol complied with orders, shutting down shields, albit quite disgruntled.

Vega sent a return message:

“Acknowledged, Starship 610. We are standing down”

“Oh woop-de-dee. Now that they know we’re sitting ducks, we can just invite them over!” Achillies muttered, after the comm. link had been severed.

“Maybe if we ask nicely, they’ll bring food!” Xol smirked.

“That’s enough” Vega said, rolling his eyes at the tagteam of his first officer and tactical officer.

It takes nearly four hours for the fleet flagship to arrive. KLZ-762 is an ąmsi type, which is about as distinctive as you get in the Labule, not counting the Ălfąşrą. It is commanded, in practice, by Frod Eiji Horvath Sonoda, a fair-minded xanthalian just entering his late middle age at 123 years. Middle names are fairly common among xanthalians, but virtually never asked for or used. Typically they convey something personal from parent to child; whereas last names are usually determined by family and first names selected from a limited list of ancestral monikers, middle names represent people, places, things, or ideas that were held in exceptionally high regard by the one giving the name. The spirit of such names can be common to the point of cliché or unconventional to the point of controversy. Sonoda bears his proudly and publicly, though it is a fairly common one for Mirfakans born in the mid to late 190s.

Sonoda is pale-skinned, and his outer skeleton shapes his face in a hard-edged manner that belies his gentle, understanding nature. His pitch-black hair clashes with his complexion, and his height is substantial. Since he was young, Eiji has shown a readiness to bond with people atypical of his kind. Those who know him personally often have a difficult time picturing him ordering soldiers into battle. Indeed, he has never had to do so personally, but his loyalty to Xanthal and a steel determination running beneath the surface of his friendly demeanor are easy to underestimate, as are the lengths to which he would go to realize them, should the need arise.

“wĭnəι, Mănowąs. trmĭni diskun?”

“trmĭni diskun.”

The conversation with Mănowąs Sla ends with characteristic abruptness. The no-frills style of military efficiency always seems rude to Eiji’s ear, but he can appreciate its functionality. Though he started his civil service in the diplomatic corps, he was driven into the military to keep his job after the restructuring of the bureaucracy following the union with Than and Trasnia. An unplanned career move, to be sure, but he can hardly complain about the success he’s had since he began working for the Labule. The most persistent complaint he has about his current job is the fact that the personnel under his command are almost 90% thanic. Than have many admirable traits, but he has never gotten over their brash insensitivity. In some ways, it reminds him of the common shortcomings of his own species, but the insectoids take it to a new level. Even so, Most of Eiji’s staff are than, so it made sense to learn their language; especially since learning a new language is not nearly as daunting a prospect for a xanthalian as it is for most sentients. However, though he can understand them (as long as they speak at an audible frequency), he can’t respond in kind. A few (a very few) xanthalians have vocal chords that can manage the thanic language, but Eiji is not among them.

“diskuni ąk Olympia,” he orders his communications officer.

Communications officers carry a great burden of responsibility on an ąmsi, since the vessel is designed to track battles on a large scale and manage fleets accordingly. This duty means the amount of data that must be managed is tremendous, far too much for any individual of most species, even with the help of the ship’s advanced artificial intelligence. Thus, where on a normal Labule starship one person juggles all inter-ship communications and active sensors, the bridge of the ąmsi has three separate stations: one for managing individual comm links, another for gathering and interpreting sensor data, and a third for monitoring the ship’s computer as it sends out orders to and receives reports from potentially tens of thousands of allied vessels. Even with this division of labor, juggling the duties of even one station is a task only for those with a special sharpness of the mind and senses. The appropriate individual opens the requested channel with a quick and practiced manipulation of the console, then continues fluidly with its pre-existing tasks.

“Atlantian vessel,” begins the Frod, looking at the image of Admiral Vega that appears on his personal screen, a small thing built into the arm of his chair, as his own words and image are transmitted to the Olympia in turn. Sonoda has briefed himself on the Imperial Federation in the interim between receiving word of their arrival and entering real-time communications range. “You came unannounced, so I hope you will excuse the lack of a reception befitting such a longstanding friend of the Xanthalian people. My name is Eiji Horvath Sonoda, commander of Xanthalian spaceborne military forces in the Than System. I extend to you my personal welcome to our territory. We have not seen an Atlantian flagship in many years, so I assume you come on an errand of great importance. Please tell me how I may assist you.”

“Sir, we’re getting an incoming transmission”

“Go” said Vega, quickly preparing himself. Sing pressed a button on her console, and the main view screen of the bridge changed from the planet they had almost hit to the face of a middle-aged Xanthalian.

“Atlantian vessel,” begins the Frod, looking at the image of Admiral Vega that appears on his personal screen, a small thing built into the arm of his chair, as his own words and image are transmitted to the Olympia in turn. Sonoda has briefed himself on the Imperial Federation in the interim between receiving word of their arrival and entering real-time communications range. “You came unannounced, so I hope you will excuse the lack of a reception befitting such a longstanding friend of the Xanthalian people. My name is Eiji Horvath Sonoda, commander of Xanthalian spaceborne military forces in the Than System. I extend to you my personal welcome to our territory. We have not seen an Atlantian flagship in many years, so I assume you come on an errand of great importance. Please tell me how I may assist you.”

“I am Admiral Vega of the first Imperial fleet” Vega said, introducing himself, “We apologize for the lack of forewarning, Commander. We’ve been a bit isolationist since the war. And…you are correct, we are here on a top priority diplomatic mission. But I can’t talk here…not like this. Do you think it would be possible to arrange a meeting on one of our ships?”

Information about the demons wasn’t exactly classified, and a distress signal had been sent out from Cirrus. But Admiral Vega wasn’t willing to risk the threat of cloaked ears nearby…or the threat of the Xanthalians getting wind of the situation and then getting panicked and outright refusing help. In honesty, he didn’t know how they would react, but he wasn’t willing to take that chance.

Eiji is intrigued by the request, and he allows his expression to show it. He looks off-screen, addressing some other individual that Admiral Vega cannot see. "sĭl ąsti əksi ti sąşąl?" A quick set of clicks and a short screech are audible, then Eiji returns his attention to the Atlantian. "I will be pleased to welcome you aboard this vessel or attend you aboard your own. The choice is entirely yours."

“I will come over there, if it is not too much trouble” Vega said, after a moment of thinking. He was dealing with delicate information. If…in the long run, if the topic of gods came up, he didn’t want to risk a security breach on his own ship.

The last thing he needed was a religious mob rule on his vessel.

“Lt. Sing, please have the shuttlebay prep my transport for departure” he said to his communications officer.

“Yes sir”

The ąmsi moves into a high orbit of Sohlass, putting it above and south of the Olympia. The ləsu that first responded to the Atlantians' arrival resumes its patrol of the area, standing down at the order of the frod.

Xanthalian military vessels are not designed to dock with non-Xanthalian ships. This doesn't mean they aren't capable of doing so, most are, but it is a clumsy and imprecise procedure that draws perennial complaints from crews on ship performance reports and has led to several serious accidents, though no recorded fatalities. This has led most commanders to regard fetching guests with a kąleka as standard procedure, but Sonoda decides the extra margin of safety isn't worth delaying the Admiral's mission.

"diskuni oĭnsą kąni, kąn mąt," he speaks into an intercom. "My communications officer is sending docking information to you, which you may upload to your shuttle's computer. I await your arrival."

The 'docking information' isn't exactly comprehensive; it consists mostly of pictures showing where the port is on the ship. The rest is suggested approach vectors. Apparently the whole procedure will have to be done visually.

“Lt. Sing, if you would…” said Vega, getting up out of his chair. She did likewise. Vega nodded to Achilles, “You have the bridge”

“…you just want to have me to blame if we crash, don’t you?” she asked. Vega just smiled.

“Good luck” Xol smirked as his wife stood up. She glared at him for a brief second before walking off.

Achilles sat down in the captain’s seat as they left, relaxing and getting comfortable in his favorite seat.

“Orders, sir?” Xol asked, with a wide grin on his face.

Achilles stroked his chin thoughtfully, “Lt, initiate maneuver “couch potato””

“Aye sir” Xol placed his feet on the top of his console and laid back.

“Excellent work, Lt. You’re an inspiration for us all”

“I try, sir. I try.”

…

The small shuttlecraft took off from the Olympia, moving towards the Xanthalian ship.

“Just so you know…I hate you” Sing said with a hint of sarcasm as she manually tried to dock the shuttle with the Xanthal ship.

The admiral chuckled, but said nothing.

“You better hope to the gods I can remember how to make a manual docking, or else we’re all paint for that ship”

The shuttle moved closer and closer…

[The following exchange has been translated from Mirfakan and Than for reader convenience.]

"Do we know that the shuttle has a standard locking mechanism?" asks the dockmaster, an amber-shell who is really just an engineer that happens to have more experience with mating ships than anyone else aboard. Together with the Frod, it watches the smaller craft inching into position from a screen outside the inner airlock.

"I did not ask," Sonoda replies. "I assumed too much, perhaps?"

"Most manufacturers include it in their designs."

"But from my research, it is clear that the Atlantians are remarkably reclusive. Xanthal is one of their closest allies, and this is the first official contact we have had in more than two decades."

"It is a waste of time to dwell upon things one cannot change."

"Ah. Of course." For a moment, I forgot who I was talking to.

The two ships collide gently with a thud, followed by the mechanical hum of docking clamps, which hook into place with a satisfying clank, drawing the seals of both ships tight against one another. The ąmsi fills the space, not more than a couple cubic meters, with its own atmosphere. "Ship secured. Pressure sensors indicate seal leakage at seventy-four atmospheres per hour," the than reports.

"That is deplorable," Eiji says with a frown.

"We can try again."

"No, no. It probably would not help."


Eiji contacts the shuttle. "Our instruments show your ship is secure. The seal is imperfect, so we will only pressurize the space while you embark and disembark. I ask that you move through as quickly as possible to avoid wasting atmosphere."

The space between the Atlantian shuttle and the Xanthalian ship is dreadfully cold, filled with a continuous sharp hissing sound as air leaks out into space and the ąmsi repleneshes it. The hatches of both ships and the rubber-like material of the seal are covered with condensation. On the plus side, the space is only a few centimeters long and just big enough around for a human to pass through upright to the deck of the Xanthalian vessel on the other side.

KLZ-762 has artificial gravity, which seems to be set at or a bit above one gee. The walls are painted a soft grey-blue color, and the room lit from above. Running along the corners where walls meet ceiling is a continuous strip of white LED lighting, clearly visible but not enough to be useful for primary illumination of the ship. This room is small, no larger than ten meters square with perhaps two meters of headroom. Aside from the lighting, outer hatch, and a heavy door that will presumably be letting them out into the rest of the ship once opened, the airlock is quite featureless.

When the Lieutenant and Admiral are inside the outer hatch closes, and subsequently the flow of air into the space between the ships. "Welcome aboard!" Sonoda's voice comes over the intercom. "For the safety of this ship and its crew, I ask that each of you submit a blood sample. You may draw the sample with the needles provided, and submit them for testing in the recepticle to the right of the dispenser." Two openings appear in the wall next to the door, one dispensing a hypodermic needle and the other simply a tray on which to place the filled needle. The needles are small, holding perhaps ten milliliters of blood each. "To your knowledge, are either of you carrying an infectious disease, scanning equipment, or weapons of any kind?"

“Eh…” the Admiral glanced at the tray, a little uncomfortable.

Sing looked at the tray in front of her, then at Vega. “…What? Don’t tell me the Admiral’s afraid of a needle”

“I have a slight aversion to sticking foreign objects into my body” he replied to her, as the voice over the intercom spoke up again.

“Wuss”

Vega ignored her and answered the questions the voice was asking. He was starting to feel more like an interrogated prisoner then an ambassador.

“Uh…no, a tricorder, and…no” he looked at Sing. She shrugged.

“Nada” she replied.

“Just a tricorder” Vega said to the intercom, clarifying, as both he and Sing glanced at the needle.

“…So?”

“So what?” asked Sing.

“Do it”

“You first. Be an example”

“I order you to do it first”

“Why?”

“Are you being insubordinate?”

“I don’t follow orders when they’re not in good faith”

“…what’s the matter? Afraid?”

“No”

“Then do it”

“You do it”

“That’s an order”

“Captain goes down with his ship”

“I’m an Admiral”

Sing rose her finger in preparation to make another point, then stopped. “Oh whatever. I’ll take the damn needle first, wuss”

“I commend your efforts for testing the situation for my continued safety, Lt”

Sing grumbled as she impaled her arm, annoyed at the slight stinging sensation. A moment later, Vega reluctantly stuck a needle in his arm as well. They then placed the needles on the tray, and awaited the next part of…whatever this was.

Eiji chuckles good-naturedly at the exchange. "Thank you for your cooperation. This vessel is not equipped with bioscanners, so we are limited to more primitive methods of checking for health risks. The analysis of blood samples is hardly an exhaustive check, but we prefer not to burden our guests with a full medical exam and extended quarantine."

The wall closes up again, taking the samples with it. "The computer will take about two minutes to analyze the samples. In the meantime, I must respectfully inform you that use of electronic scanning devices by visiting parties aboard Xanthalian Labule vessels is strictly forbidden. I ask that you deactivate your tricorder if it is not already turned off and keep it secured for the duration of your stay. Also, I am obliged to tell you that while the Labule makes all reasonable efforts to prevent disease and contain infectious agents onboard its ships, I cannot guarantee that you will not be exposed to biohazards while on the premises." Sonoda smiles privately. "In other words, you come aboard at your own risk and don't blame us if you get sick or die later."

The door whooshes open, revealing the Admiral and the thanic dockmaster on the other side. The than is busy at a control panel, but Eiji gives the visitors his full attention. The pale, hard-featured xanthalian is dressed in the standard uniform for a military officer, a dark grey jumpsuit with red lining. He snaps off a respectful salute in the Xanthalian style, heels together, back straight, left arm at the side and right hand balled into a fist, raised to the chest thumb inward.

"Admiral Vega of the First Imperial Fleet, officer of the Imperial Federation of Atlantis, I am Frode Eiji Horvath Sonoda of the Than System Labule Defense Force, officer of the Socialist Republic of Xanthal. It is my honor to recieve your visit." Meeting an Atlantian is new territory for him, but his research hadn't indicated any special protocols to be exercised with these people, so he falls back on his 'standard' diplomatic style, along with the usual curtesy of respecting military rank of foreign officials. Frod and Admiral work out to be more or less the same, with Frod being marginally superior or inferior depending on the type of Admiral in question, so Eiji plays it safe by standing at full attention.

“In layman’s terms, we can’t sue them” smirked the navigation officer. The Admiral smiled slightly as he quietly turned off the tricorder on his belt.

Vega bowed slightly as a sign of respect to Eiji as he saluted. “Thank you, Frod, and it is a pleasure to be here”

And it was. This was what Vega had always wanted the fleet to do, explore. Negotiate. Even though Xanthal was an ally, very little was known first hand…and sadly, the same could be said for the rest of the galaxy.

He sighed, “If only it could be under better circumstances. Do you have a place we could talk? Privately? I do not wish for the information I am about to disclose to you to be for all open ears without prior consideration on your people’s part.”

Vega did not know how the Xanthalian populace would react to the event. It could literally range from flat-out apathy to, well…the Atlantian populace, upon being informed, had become highly agitated. Thanks to the revetivly long life spans of Centaurs and Atlantians, a half century wasn’t much time to forget about something like that.

Who knew if the Xanthalians even KNEW about the Demons anymore.

Eiji relaxes his posture, lowering his hands. "Of course, Admiral." He looks over at Sing. She looks like another officer, but since she hasn't been introduced it's hard to tell what her rank and function is. "Admiral Sonoda," he says, saluting again. "Will you be joining us?"

The other officer bowed slightly, “Lt. Sing, navigation officer. And yes, I will be.”

Vega looked at Sing, then Eiji, with a faint “Are we ready to begin?” look in his eyes.

"Follow me, then," Sonoda says cheerfully. Eiji leads them out of the room and down a short hallway, making a right near the end that takes them into his office. He pulls an extra chair in front of his desk and sits down on the other side, a large window looking out into space behind him. He invites the Admiral and Lieutenant to sit with a simple gesture, then folds his hands together on the desk's surface. "There are recording devices in this room, used for record keeping and security purposes. Is it necessary that I deactivate them?"

Doing a quick sweep of the room for the devices, Admiral Vega shook his head as he turned back to Eiji.

“No. We just don’t want to get the masses worked up at all. You’ll be free to tell your populace afterwards, at your own leisure”

He and Sing sat down.

“Sonoda…” Vega put his hands together on the table, “What do you know of a species known as “The Demons”?”

"Eiji, if you do not mind," the frod says disarmingly. "I am among friends, after all." He sits back with a contemplative expression. "The Socialist Empire fought against the Demon race with a coalition led by the Atlantians and Zoir. That was over seven centuries ago by our measure."

Sonoda is actually better informed than he lets on, but he has found that showing off the photographic memory common among xanthalians can be off-putting, not to mention rude. He makes a point of omitting details and summarizing events so it sounds less like he's talking down to people, or at least less like a computer. "I reviewed the relevant data I could obtain on short notice after I was informed of your arrival. Since most of Xanthal's direct experience with your people was during that war, I did my best to learn what I could.

"Very little seems known about the Demons themselves. I could find no information regarding their social structure. The first record of the Demons is ancient, provided by the Zoir. It chronicles a war between the Zoir and a violent, xenophobic, technologically-sophisticated race identified only as the Demons, who the Zoir enclosed in a dimensional pocket to remove the threat from our universe. The Demons apparently remained trapped in that dimension until they attacked Atlantian and Zoir territories in the Xanthalian Year 97, leading to what we know as the Demon War. During the engagements that followed, it became clear that the Demons intended, in the long term, to conquer or destroy the entire galaxy. All attempts to negotiate with them were met with simple ultimatums or ignored entirely. The Demon fleet was destroyed while attempting to subjugate the Sol System, but since their dimension was beyond reach, it was widely held that the Demon threat was not entirely eliminated."

Eiji leans forward again, placing his palms on the desk's surface, his look deadly serious now. "The Xanthalian government continues to believe that their reappearance would constitute an imminent threat to the Socialist Republic and all life in the galaxy."

Seven centuries.

Vega hid his surprise. It had only been about fifty years for Atlantis. He surmised that the fractal reality of Earth was spreading further then what was known. Something about this worried him. It was one thing if one planet was a reality sinkhole where things vanished and manifested out of thin air, which one could avoid if one wished.

But if the sinkhole was spreading…an entire Galaxy fractalized? What would that mean for space travel? What would that mean for whole systems and civilizations, which could blink out at a moment’s notice? The Admiral made a mental note to have someone further study fractal realities and dimensional physics…just in case.

Turning his attention back to the matter at hand, Vega reached for his deactivated tricorder on his belt. He placed it face up on the desk, and turned it back on.

“My apologies, but I need to have a visual aid” he said, pressing a button or two. A holographic display of the Milky Way Galaxy (and a handful of the nearby dwarf galaxies) popped out from the tricorder. It quickly zoomed in, to the point where only a third of the Galaxy could be seen, looking from “above” the plane. The edge of the core was on one side, the “bar” just out of range of the picture. Outside its yellow glow sat the beginnings of an arm of blue with hints of white and purple, the Norma arm. Outside that, a segment of the Scutum-Crux arm. Then what one could consider “local” space, the Sagittarius arm, followed by the minor Orion arm segment. Finally, the Perseus arm could be seen on the edge of the galaxy. And outside that, as well as above the disk lay many smaller bodies, yellowish dots that seemed to be missing parts to the core. These were the Globular clusters.

“The pocket dimension wasn’t the main threat” Vega said, as the map began to populate itself with various political and natural entities in the Galaxy. At this distance, only a few political powers appeared bigger then single dots. “Rather, they came from...” he pointed at a few of the Globular clusters orbiting the galaxy, “Here. The clusters”

“For the last year and a half, our borders with the Zoir empire have been increasingly assaulted by immigrants and refugees, fleeing the apparent collapse of the Zoir Empire. We figured the Zoir Warlords had finally managed to tip the scales and take out the government, as they had become more aggressive towards us as well. We were wrong…they were simply being pushed out, as it were”

Anyone would be able to draw a parallel with this to the Roman Empire. Germanic tribes, moving into Roman territory, not to conquer (although the results were devastating), but to settle somewhere else. They were fleeing…from something that was coming.

“Several months ago, we began sending in fleets to assess the situation. To take care of surviving Atlantian rebel forces, as well as the Zoir Warlord problem, and to possibly find a solution to the immigration problem. But as we got further and further into Zoir space, we realized something was off. There were virtually no class M worlds, and those that were left were on the brink of ecological collapse. There were, however, an abundance of class L worlds. Those we regard as “marginal”. Either they at one point supported life and lost it, or life never got a foothold. They are known as “Dying” worlds.”

Vega pressed another button on the tricorder, and it pinpointed a small part of the Orion arm, creating a secondary zoomed-in map of a couple stars.

“About a month ago, we discovered this”

The secondary map zoomed into one of the systems, then changed its picture to that of a death-black ship, as dark as the night, with a shimmering hull. It was dressed in talons and spikes, and assumed a fearsome pose. Eiji would know it to be a Demon Dreadnought.

“It was left adrift, with a single AI onboard. Before self-destructing his program, he told us that the ship was a warning. Another week later, we finally reached Zoir Prime. The entire system was gone. Every world and moon had been blasted into an asteroid field, and the star itself had somehow imploded into a neutron star.”

Vega now had the same deadly seriousness on his face as Eiji. “There were four billion souls in the Zoir Proper, with billions more not aligned with the Empire. They’re all dead. The Demons systematically wiped out the entire first line of defense this galaxy has against them right under our noses. And since discovering that ship, the attacks on our ships and colonies have begun.”

Vega quickly glanced at Sing, who was simply watching back at him with a look of seriousness. Both of them turned back to Eiji.

“I come here on an errand of mercy, S—Eiji. The Demons so far have only been attacking with scout fleets, but it is only a matter of time until the next wave arrives. We…need your assistance”

The frode regards the tricorder with something between concern and annoyance as it sits active on the table. This news does not bode well, but he's not surprised to hear it after Vega asked him what he knew on the subject. In any case, a request for Xanthalian aid goes above his head, especially with Xanthalian forces stretched so thin. Sonoda reaches out and closes the tricorder with his right hand, doing his utmost to make the very obtrusive act as unobtrusive as possible. "I can pass that request on to the Alphin," Eiji says levelly, eyes alighting on the lieutenant briefly before coming to rest on the admiral, "but they will almost certainly reject it out of hand. I believe the probability of petitioning them successfully would be better if you were to make the request yourself, preferably in person." Eiji turns his hands palm up in front of him. "It is, of course, your decision to make."

Crossing his arms, Eiji purses his lips, seeming to carry on a debate in his head. Resolving it quickly, he continues in an apologetic tone. "I feel obliged to warn you before you spend more time here that Xanthalian technology today is greatly inferior to that of our predecessors, and most of our combat vessels are still limited to the Gree System in Atlantian territory. Even if you convince the Triumvirate to lend you aid, Atlantis and its allies may be disappointed by the help the Socialist Republic can offer."

Vega was disappointed in the answer, but nodded after taking back his tricorder and placing it back on his belt. He put the tactical problems to this scenario behind him for now, he’d worry about that *after* gaining support. One problem at a time.

“I’ll do it; I have an obligation to my people to do so. And any help is help. We’re desperate, Eiji. And you seem to be under the false impression we *have* allies”

Eiji looks puzzled. "The Demons pose a threat to every sentient being in this galaxy. Eliminating the threat is in the interest of nearly every country in known space. If Atlantis issues a general call to arms, I am confident your people will find many willing allies." He tilts his head to the right inquisitively. "Does the Federation have reasons to keep this information classified?"

“Except didn’t you just say that chances were that your own government would reject the offer?” asked Vega, placing his hands back on the table, cupped together. “I cannot tell you the situation back home since I’ve left, Eiji. But when I was leaving, we had virtually no assistance. Phalanx is of little help, they are too beaten from civil war, and the Elarans haven’t been answering our hails. We sent out a general call-to-arms, but none had replied by the time I had left. The fact of the matter is, the Demons are attacking only us, and it’s been a good long while since they’ve been here. People forget things. And since the Demons have restricted attacks to only us, people tend to assume it’s a local struggle rather then a war of survival. Now, perhaps I am wrong, and I pray that I am…but I was sent here on a mission based on the idea we would have to recruit everyone manually”

"Most disturbing..." Eiji says pensively. He stands up, folding his hands behind his back. "Admiral, I request permission to escort you to Renku aboard this vessel. Since there is no direct jumpnode link between the Than and Mirfak, travelling via planespace will probably allow you to complete your mission faster. Besides, piloting a non-alliance warship into Mirfak at this time would be unwise. The joint forces currently securing the system do not have uniform command or rules of engagement. It is possible that the Olympia could be fired upon if it is met by the wrong ship."

Vega nodded, understanding fully. “Of course. Time is of the essence, and I am in no mood to start an international incident. However….if you would allow me to contact my ship first, and inform them…I doubt they’d take kindly to you just leaving with me still onboard”

“Of course,” the frod replies, “but I would like to work out some details before you do so.” He retakes his seat, beginning to work on his console. “First, I recommend that the Lieutenant return to the Olympia in your shuttle. This ship’s maximum safe acceleration is significantly reduced when it is docked with another vessel. Second, it will take in excess of thirty hours to reach Renku, and another thirty to return here after you have met with the Triumvirs. The Than System does not offer many luxuries, but if you wish to grant your crew shore leave for the duration of your absence you are welcome to do so. Third, for security reasons Xanthalian law forbids visiting ships from activating their weapons, restricts use of shields and point defense to situations in which they are necessary to protect the health and welfare of the crew, and demands minimal use of active sensors. Since these restrictions could place the Olympia at risk, I will assign Labule ships to escort and protect it as long as it remains in the system.”

Eiji turns the computer around, so it faces the admiral. “If that is acceptable, you may inform your ship of our plans using this console.”

Smiling, Vega nodded again. “It is, and thank you” he took the console and sent a signal to the Olympia.

On the screen appeared Xol and Achilles, firmly rooted in their seats with their legs resting across the consoles. Xol seemed to be napping.

“Ahem” Vega coughed loudly, sending the two officers jolting up.

“Er…sir. How…how goes it?” asked Achilles, getting his feet to the floor.

“Just fine” Vega replied, putting his hands together on the table, a slight hint of annoyance on his face. “Lt. Sing will be returning to the ship, and I will be continuing on to Renku alone”

“Sir…do you think that’s wise?” asked Achilles.

“Yes, I do. We do not have time to take detours through random system jump nodes, and from what I’ve been informed of, Xanthal isn’t the most friendly place to visitors. I have been authorized to grant you shore leave to this system while I am away, which should take a few days. However, as before, you are restricted in use to weapons, shields, and sensors, and will be escorted by several Xanthalian vessels. You *will* be kind and courteous to our hosts, understand?”

“Er…yes sir. Of course”

“Excellent. Vega out” he terminated the transmission, then nodded at Sing. She smiled and stood up. “I shall return with the shuttlecraft to the Olympia” she bowed slightly at Eiji, then made her way out.

"Well then," Eiji says, pleased that things are progressing smoothly. He rises from his seat again and walks to the door, holding it open for the Admiral. "Would you like to come to the command deck with me, or would you prefer to retire to the guest quarters?"

“Well” Vega stood up himself, “I think it would be rude to turn down an invitation to come to one’s bridge” he walked out of the room, and turned to face Eiji, “I would enjoy it, I have a slight fascination with bridge layouts”

"Well then, by all means." Eiji walks beside Vega as they make their way through the hall to the fore. "The Omsai type is a tactical command ship; designed to coordinate friendly forces in local engagements involving many ships. Ships of this class are designed and built by the United Federal Shipbuilders under the direction of Arizona Nova. In the Xanthalian fleet, the sophistication of the Omsai's communications, sensor, and defensive technology is exceeded only by the Alphashra. We have five decks, variable artificial gravity, ten point defense laser turrets, and two electronic intelligences aboard. The ship is two hundred meters long, and fully loaded has a mass of less than twelve thousand metric tonnes. Of course, more extensive specifications are available for your perusal should you wish to see them."

They pause briefly at the end of the hallway as Sonoda pushes a panel to open the door. "This is the command center." He leads the Admiral in, stepping aside to let Vega get a good view. The Atlantian finds himself on a balcony of sorts. There is only one seat here, overlooking the deck below, seperated from it only by a low railing. The space is painted and furnished in beige, gray, and light blue. The command deck itself, about five meters down, is spacious; four stations are grouped in the front and others along the wall further aft. Just in front of and below the balcony is a seat seperate from the rest, presumably for the captain. The center of the deck below, however, is vacant. A railing runs around what looks like a giant projector lens in a large circle. On the ceiling, an identical lens is positioned directly above it. Despite this island of empty space, both decks of the bridge are well lit, giving the whole area an almost excessively spacious feel, especially considering the small size of the ship.

"The Omsai's bridge configuaration is unique in the Labule fleet," Eiji informs Vega, stepping beside him at the edge of the balcony. "The holographic projectors allow a three-dimensional tactical situation map to be projected in the center of the room, giving a fleet commander nearly instantaneous access to a visual representation of friends and foes in the vicinity."

"Very nice" Vega said, especially interested in the use of holographic technology. Atlantis had AI's and Holodecks, yes. So why didn't Vega have something like this? He'd have to get command to get him one.

"..A very nice bridge" he said. "I must say, I'm envious of the holographic projectors. For some reason, we have not yet thought about using those"

"A large projector like this takes up a great deal of space, but most humanoids benefit from a visual aid when considering large amounts of data. The Siesatian technology integrated into the Omsai gives the ship the data processing power it needs to identify and track ten thousand targets simultaneously, and maintain real-time communications with five thousand ships at any one time. I have never had occasion to use those capabilites in a real battle, but I have found them immensely helpful in tactical simulations."

Eiji turns to his guest with a bashful smile. "Ah, I've been so busy bragging that I almost forgot to ask: have you brought a linguistic translator with you?"

Vega lightly tapped a tiny device positioned around the crevice between the top of his ear and his head, which swooped around and down and into his ear. "Standard for all foreign visits, especially a place we haven't visited for awhile"