NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This is most definitely not a combat thread, ya? Oh, and here's a map of the Tau Empire. This, incidentally, is OOC knowledge only. http://i16.tinypic.com/4uj2vll.png

One can only go so long in space without encountering another species. The Tau had encountered many, subjugated some - and allied with others. Nevertheless, despite the skill of the Water Caste diplomats, the Tau lacked a true set of embassies. Rather, they had never felt the need to negotiate with nations as a whole, preferring to negotiate terms with individual worlds and fleets, from which the Water Caste derived most of its experience.

However, the universe was a much nicer place than the ravening Orkish hordes on the fringes of the Empire would indicate. And, of course, there were the orders of the Ethereals to be considered.

Aun'O Shala T'au had given orders that embassies were to be requested from other nations. The order was explicit. Find those species with whom we desire diplomatic contact, and open it. Embassies were to be constructed on the world of Ai'dar, a famous world for the Water Caste, and, of course, it was not on the outskirts of the Empire, that embassies might fall to the Orks and pirates, but nor would it be in T'au itself, where wily aliens could ply the arts of spying and sabotage, where they might be able to look into the inner workings of the Empire itself.

Naturally, it could not speak for the entire Empire. No diplomat could, unless the Ethereals had, as a whole, given their prior consent. Nevertheless, it would serve as a useful post for letting others know the desires and will of the Tau, and for others letting them know the same.

A message spread across space, some sent to people they knew, others by probe to uncharted regions of space. The messages sent by probe only gave the vaguest outline of how to send a message back - and no co-ordinates, for there were those who would oppose the Greater Good, and use the Tau's own friendliness against them. No, they would not allow that.

Greetings. As a representative of the Greater Good, I, Aun'O Shala T'au, have given order that embassies will be allowed, as well as representatives of alien groups and species, no matter how large or small, on Ai'dar. Co-ordinates have been transmitted with this message. Kindly note that the appearance of any capital ships, or even human cruisers or frigates will be taken as an intent to harm the Tau, and thus will be removed. Unarmed diplomatic craft will be more than welcome.

The message by probe was similiar - but lacked co-ordinates, and merely contained apparatus to send a message back to the Empire. Any trying to tinker with the insides of the probe would meet components fused together beyond recognition, so saving the Empire's location.

Aun'O Shala waited. It was not a move he enjoyed. Rather, the Greater Good should move to encompass all through fire and steel, not mere words. However, it was his duty to the Greater Good. His duty to the Empire. Conquest would avail them little when the same effect could be achieved by the honeyed words of the Water Caste.

He sighed. "I merely hope I have not opened a box of troubles whose contents I will not be able to restrain.."

Scores of light years from the Ai’dar colony, a tapering, curved vessel in dappled yellow and ecru colours emerged from a brilliant point of space that seemed to stretch off into a seething expanse of nothing. It slowed, and turned, its engines bringing it to a halt, and then pointing it in the general direction of the Tau colony.

It snagged a probe in a protrusion from its prow, seeming to do nothing so much as devour it.

Its rear section folded open, like the petals of some strange flower opening. They seethed with gentle blue-violet light on the inside surfaces, and settled. Hours passed, as though it were some seabird, sunning itself and its wings after a catch, and then, the ship’s ‘wings’ folded in on themselves again, and another tear in normality appeared, a red funnel down which the ship fell, leaving nothing in its wake to speak of its lingering.

The message that arrived at Ai’dar later did not come from the same area, but the same general direction; toward the base of the Orion Arm of the galaxy. It was simple, and formal sounding.

The Vorlon Empire sends Greetings to the Tau Empire.

Our ambassador awaits.

Life support and other facilities will not initially be required, however, for long-term data, see enclosed file entitled Vorlon Atmospheric Requirements.

Vorlon looks forward to productive exchange of information.

Vorlon space is not eligible for visitors at this time, and travel to it is dangerous. We will not be able to receive ambassadors in exchange.

Coordinates for Rendezvous are attached.▌

It gave a set of coordinates far distant from the point of transmission, presumably in the distant Vorlon Empire itself. However, those coordinates were much more accessible from the location where the probe had been ‘caught’ and so more accessible to the Tau.

"Aun'O, we have received a message. From one 'Vorlon Empire'."

Shala perused it quickly. "Do we have any ships in the vicinity of the message?

The Water Caste diplomat nodded respectfully. "Indeed we do, Aun'O. I asked the Kor'el in command of the fleet here at Ai'dar, and he has informed me that a single trader ship, carrying two Water Caste diplomats, is within close range of the rendezvous point. Should we send a message, it should reach them, along with diplomatic instructions, at approximately the same time that they will be at their closest point in their journey from the meeting point."

"Is the ship carrying anything important?"

"No, Aun'O, it is not. It is an old refitted Gue'la trader. It has been given Tau engines, and can dive into the Warp, in lieu of a psyker, who originally piloted the ship. Although somewhat shabby, it will serve to meet these people as soon as possible."



- - -

Aboard the Krill

"What? We're meant to go and see.. but.. I had a cargo to deliver!"

The Water Caste diplomat aboard, Ki'el, smoothly interrupted the human captain. "Of course, good Gue'vesa. But the Empire can function without your cargo of refitted lasguns for your comrades for some time further. After all, you are not to be committed to combat in the foreseeable future. Yet contact with this new race is an honour. Should we achieve it well, you may well find yourself in command of greater ships, with more honour to achieve, and more chance to serve the Tau'va."

Benj growled. "Fine. I wanted to see those lasguns on Kae'la, though, with my men."

"Kae'la, I believe, has already been cleared. You will not be seeing action there."

"Damn. Anyways, boys, let's tune this old hag up! Send 'er into the Warp!"

The Krill dived into the Immaterium, slicing reality cleanly where they exited it, the hole in what was healing up just as cleanly and quickly - something that would not happen, should the ship face a warp engine explosion.

They would be some days in the transit, yet being on the edge of the Empire meant it would only be days, not weeks. The Krill was mainly reactor and scarcely ship, originally an Imperial messenger-ship, used to run important messages and personages from world to world.

Captain Benj was an impatient man. Yet he knew well the value of serving the Tau, rather than serving other, less benign powers. He wished to see his wife and daughter again, but.. after this delivery, he'd be allowed to settle down, and train other Gue'vesa captains for the Empire, and, after he grew old - well, maybe he'd just dispense advice, and live his last few years in peace. It wasn't such a bad life, after all.

The cold rush of the Warp hit him, and he remembered trips into the real Immaterium, rather than the edge of it the Tau touched, and shuddered. The Krill had been attacked by a daemon prince, when it had been a ship of the Imperium, and scarcely escaped with its life.

This was far safer. Few things came out of the Warp to hunt the Tau ships that skittered like a water-bug along the edge of it, and, even when they did, retreat was a simple enough matter. He settled in for the long haul. Weeks on a ship, trapped, with only Tau for company.. they were nice enough, he supposed, but if he was drinking tonight, or any other night, there'd be no doubt he would be drinking alone.

OOC: Before I post in this thread, I have some OOC questions on the status of the Tau empire. I apologize for posting them here, but you were not available on MSN. In brief:

1. Is this Tau Empire separate from your ESUS nation?
2. Do I understand correctly that the population of the Tau Empire is far, far greater then the gameplay population of HT? I have no problem with such a thing, I in fact thing it’d be appropriate. But I am curious.

The Vorlon transport was there, waiting, its wings opened, basking in the corona of a white dwarf star, like a sea mammal lying in the shallows of the ocean at low tide, relaxing. When the Tau – well, human – ship emerged from its perverse dimension, the ship folded its petal-wings and turned on the spot, accelerating towards it.

The ship was curiously transparent to sensors, rather than aiming to evade detection, the design philosophy seemed to be to prevent clear readings being obtained on the vessel’s interior. This was partly because of its function as a diplomatic transport. The ship read as only carrying one life form, that was either the ship itself, like a Tyranid vessel, or linked to it directly so that they no longer read as separate entities.

Strong structural members about twice as long as a manta missile destroyer was wide, and made in two distinct segments, linked the ship. It seemed obvious that the front section of the ship served a weapon function, though quite how that operated wasn’t immediately apparent. It was certainly very different to any weapons system the Tau had previously encountered, though in its current ‘idling’ setting, it didn’t seem very powerful, though more so than the ion weapons on the missile destroyers of similar displacement.

What could be easily told about it was this; the ship itself was alive, in some way, and partly composed of organic materials, but primarily of plastic materials that had organic properties, like the Eldar wraith bone the Tau had likely seen before. These made up the ‘frame’ of the vessel, and armoured plates under its outer skin, which seemed to be a polymorphic organic gel that formed a thick layer over it to retard (or perhaps contain) radiation. Beyond this, capillary-like circulatory systems supported a hull that appeared to contain energy absorbing ‘cells’ the size of textbooks, underneath a thin chameleonic ‘skin’ with plastic characteristics.

The vessel answered all hails smoothly, if curtly, in a ‘text only’ format, and then slid up beside the freighter, part of its hull deforming, plates underneath moving, as it literally made an airlock in its side, which morphed to match a human-designed ‘lock.

The single passenger who moved from the alien ship was around six feet in height, and the first thing a Tau would notice was that the ‘head’ of his suit bore a striking resemblance to those used on the ‘crisis’ suits of the fire caste. A single green eye stared from a blocky, rectangular head, though where the fire warriors’ were sharp and metallic, this was smoothed, dappled in green and brown.

High shoulders of the same dappled organo-plastic material curved up on either side of the head, with a rubbery black section around the neck, and black nozzles that gave it a curiously primitive appearance. These nozzles occasionally inhaled and exhaled, as the creature within breathed. On its chest, an elaborate multifaceted jewel sat, like some ancient breastplate, jewelled to show station. In the centre, a diamond shaped diamond the size of man’s fist sat, surrounded by brass that seemed to hold the jewels together almost seamlessly, like some abstract stained glass window.

Sea green and black robes hung from its shoulders, obscuring everything beneath. There were several layers, in heavy velvety fabric, and as the creature moved, they rippled, though it didn’t seem to have humanoid legs, it also appeared to have some physical locomotion involving moving parts, rather than a gravitational system. That said, there were trace readings to suggest it was gravitic in some way.

Obscuring was what this dense, seemingly armoured, suit did. It was difficult to even see it on cameras, as though somehow, light twisted when it neared electrical devices, to prevent it being recorded. Let alone scan inside the suit, if anything, it seemed exceptional at keeping radiation, such as X-rays, out – perhaps the Vorlons lived on burnt, blasted planets, or perhaps they were simply utterly paranoid about anyone seeing their true forms that they went to absurd lengths to sensor-proof their ambassadors.

Nonetheless, the suit didn’t contain any obvious weapons, and the thermal energy from the suit was minimal. Whether it had any armaments… Well… Nothing obvious.

It waited outside the airlock of the human vessel, breathing slowly in its native, methane rich atmosphere, the camera-iris of its solitary green eye flexing a little.


OOCness: Well, most Tau colonies don’t need to be that big. Even Vior’la, a major sept, has a population of around seven million, according to White Dwarf. Which of course, makes sense. They’ve expanded rapidly, but they’re not inherently more fertile than anyone else.

Ki'el looked around the ship. Shabby - ugly, even. It lacked the.. the flow, the assurance that came from a Tau vessel, assuring one that all was in order, well-repaired, and well-maintanced. While not quite broken, it gave the impression that something was about to. It frightened him, quite frankly.

Of course, Captain Benj assured him that the vessel was perfectly safe. Not that he didn't believe the man, but.. still. The lights, for one thing. They flickered. Only occasionally, mind you, and only when the ship was accelerating, but.. they flickered. The only other time he had seen a ship in such a state was when he had actually been on a ship in combat - unlucky enough to get caught in a combat with Orks with the legendary Kor'O Ki'ja. They had almost been boarded, the green tide missing only because Ki'ja had twisted the ship out of the way, throwing them all against bulkheads, against walls - against whatever had happened to be in the way at the time. A quarter of them had died.

Perhaps that sparked the fear. Yes, it seemed likely.

Still, the gue'vesa had sworn to serve the Greater Good. Although he did not communicate as well as a proper Air Caste captain, he sufficed for what the Tau needed. He took a deep gulp of air. Besides, had he not been stationed on this ship, he never would've been able to make contact. That was a sufficent reward for what he was enduring.

"Alright, boys. Get this bloody gravy sail in motion!"

The ship swung off, turning around agonizingly slowly, towards the Vorlon ship. The Krill was not a ship that moved with grace or deftness, rather, it was remarkably akin to a wounded buffalo.

Benj looked at the sensors, and his eyebrows shot up. "Which.. is that thing?"[/i], he asked.

Ki'el didn't quite understand the readout, yet he understood that some numbers shouldn't be that high. Or some panels that colour.

"Captain. What is the matter?"

"That.. that thing, Por'vre, just.. well, let's say our ship couldn't do it. None of our ships could do it."

"Is it a danger?"

Benj snorted. "Only if we get on its bad side, I imagine. Don't say anything too offensive to those aliens will you, Ki'el? I rather like my life as it is, without being.. disassembled into my component atoms."

Ki'el merely smiled. There would be no combat. He would not command a lightly-armed gue'vesa freighter into combat with an unknown alien vessel, even if he had the firepower advantage.

The ship came close to them - their own rudimentary maneuverability outclassed, and, without any trouble it all, the side of the ship metamorphosed, and docked.

Ki'el was already at the airlock, flanked by a pair of Fire Warriors, their pulse rifles at the ready, seemingly relaxed - but prepared to strike, just.. just in case. The airlock hissed open, gasses puffing out from the other side as it did so. He took a pair of prudent steps backwards - there was always the risk of some exotic gas not have being purged. The systems on this ship were old, after all.

And, with that, he stepped forward, speaking in the language of the Tau. He had not been briefed in the language of the other, and did not even know if those at home had it.

"Greetings. I am Por'vre Ki'el, and I greet you in the name of the Greater Good."

The Vorlon did not speak Tau. Fortunately, they had taken a precaution. They had, when they found the probe, remained in place and monitored signals in the general area. The ‘petal’ wings of the transport vessels had many functions, including what they actually resembled a little, a form of radio telescope. Although those radio signals detected from the general vicinity had been centuries old, they still gave a sufficient breadth of material to begin extrapolating the language on the probe, deciphering morphemes and grammar by strange computing processes that more conventional races could only guess at.

Consequently, the ambassador, standing there like a green watchtower, knew the meaning of every word that the Por’vre said.

One couldn’t tell, however, as all it did, was bow briefly; something that looked strange, given the concealment of everything below its neck parts, and the way it moved, it seemed to be a solid, vertical block, but evidently, under its sealed robes, there were some moving parts. One might summise that it morphed, like its ship did.

The green head came up, and looked at Ki’el first, and then at the warriors on either side, and then, the Vorlon turned, looking back through the airlock. It spoke.

In its own language, only a few ‘channels’ of which was detectable to tau ears, and the rest, while one might guess it existed, from the feeling of the audible sounds, could not be recorded, somehow, like recording images, only white noise would grace electronic systems that recorded other frequencies of sound.

It sounded like a chorus of human voices, garbled and gurgling underwater, blended with whale song just beyond hearing, and with the distant echoes of echoes of tubular bells.

The portal in the side of the Vorlon vessel closed, from the bottom up, as though material were being poured into a beaker. Dark red symbols appeared, two rows, in a cuneiform style script of short arcs, long lines, and dots, visible through the window of the outer airlock door. The Vorlon nodded slowly, and turned to look back towards the Tau.

It said nothing, simply waiting to see how its hosts reacted to it.

Little. He had so very, very little to go on. His mind was quick, and every symbol was relayed to the ship's computers, but.. it would take time to translate. If it could be done here. It had already been sent back to Ai'dar, in order for it to be deciphered there, but messages took time. And he could not simply wait for an hour, or five, standing there whilst he waited for a translation.

He muttered under his breath, and spoke once more. "My apologies, but we have not yet deciphered your language. I imagine you, too, have no deciphered ours. I will continue talking, though, so that you may come to understand what I say."

Gesturing to himself, he spoke. "Por'vre Ki'el."

He turned, and whispered to a Fire Warrior. "Go, and find out what the team in the bridge has made of those symbols so far. I hope we can get something useful out of this."

The Vorlon stood silently while the Tau spoke, and then, after the Por’vre communicated his name, decided to reply.

There were two channels to the reply, the Vorlon speech itself, a faintly heard language of nuance, complexity and peerless depth, that described the actual phrase, and the interrelated concepts to the fifth degree, and even further, proposed solutions.


The second was the Tau translation, much simpler. The very barest translation of what was actually said. It came from the illuminated chest piece of the creature, in a faintly ethereal accent, “You cannot understand me, you do not even understand yourself…” it said.

It was of course, in no way a simple answer, or a direct one. Or even an answer, save that it suggested the Vorlon actually did understand what was being said to it.


The language on the skin of the ship was easy to get a little way with, computers could easily identify words or morphemes in it, it was quite conventional. But there was no common frame of reference to draw from in attempting to decipher the text. It actually meant something quite specific, in obscure Vorlon terms.

Essentially, with so little to go on, the text was untranslatable, unless one were using magic.

OOC: Just a heads-up. I'm too tired to try and puzzle out a way to try and decipher something tonight, and, more importantly, I'll be away for up to a fortnight, due to the fact I'm moving - and there'll be no internet for me.

OOC: No problem. It works best if you don't figure out what the hell the critter's on about until much later, anyway. There's a more comprehensible character coming later.