NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This story is about creating a 'Roswell Incident'. I would like to have some unique interaction between a FT nation and my MT nation. The Plot is the crash of an 'alien' ship in a remote area of Karshkovia (between Zostar and Rostov) (http://myweb.cableone.net/bschott/Karshkovia_files/relief2.jpg) the recovery, cover-up, and then possible secret interactions with a FT nation that is requesting the return of it's small, lost ship (possibly scout or such) then trade negotiations with them. MT nations may play as nations that has information about the crash or as UFO groups trying to find the truth. Conflict isn't out of the question, but let's just leave WMDs at the door.


0129 Local
12 April 2008
Karshkovia
The Military Space Forces Early Warning Radar Station 14-Zulu
50 Kilometers north of Zostar

It was Junior Sergeant Nicole Fess' eighth hour watching her radar scope for any airborne threats against Karshkovia. Her main duty was to watch the western area of her scope for all Tazhistan air traffic and give warning to her superior if anything appeared out of the ordinary. However, the only excitement she had ever had at this post was when the coffee machine had broken down and she was forced to use instant coffee instead. Tazhistan didn't have nuclear weapons or any ballistic missiles to worry about, but then again, it never hurt to be on the look out.

Tonight was like any other. There was a 'red-eye' Karshka-Areoflot Ilyushin Il-86 on an ILS approach into Radchenko International Airport in Zostar, and a flight of four Su-37's flying the outbound leg of their patrol along the Karshkovian shoreline. Junior Sergeant Fess stifled a yawn and rolled her head causing her neck to crack and pop.

When she opened her eyes, her heart skipped a beat. Her scope was showing the fading signature of an unknown bogey closing in from the east. The mental cobwebs were brushed aside and all traces of fatigue were gone. The selection cursor whisked overtop of the unknown radar signature and the readings displayed made her blood run cold. The bogey was well within Karshkovian airspace and had been for some time if it had not deviated from it's current course. How could the other EWR stations on the eastern seaboard miss this? It was traveling over mach 10, the maximum reading that the dated radar equipment could show, and it's altitude was 42,672 Meters and falling quickly.

Her small hand slammed down on the General Alert button, causing one of the other operators who had been leaning far back in his chair with his feet up on his work area, asleep, with yesterday's newspaper covering his face, to fall backwards onto the floor. Senior Sergeant Ivan Russov quickly moved to Fess' side and assessed the contact for himself.

"Sir, unknown radar contact. Heading 254, altitude 42,600 Meters and descending rapidly, Speed...beyond Mach 10."

"Yurgi! Call up those Su-37's and get them on an intercept and have the airbase scramble their alert fighters."

Yurgi quickly recovered from his embarrassing display at imitating a turtle on it's back and made the call, relaying the information Nicole was reading off of her screen.

Senior Sergeant Ivan Russov mentally did the calculations and then yelled at Yurgi, "Call the Presidential Palace! This object is headed right for Zostar!"

"Enemy Missile, Sir", Nicole asked, her face deathly white with fear.

"No, too shallow of a re-entry angle for a missile and too big of a return. No this has to be an uncontrolled satellite re-entry."

"Sir, the airbase states their Su-37's will be over Zostar in less than 5 minutes..."

"This bogey is going to hit Zostar in under three minutes!"

"Jesus and Allah" Yurgi swore under his breath.

At 30,000 feet, descending at 8000 feet per minute and just over mach 1, the radar showed the object changed it's heading to 280 and flew well north, north-west of the capital.

None of the Radar operators were able to comment on this amazing event before the object disappeared from their scopes.

"Sir, the object appears to have crashed 400 Kilometers to the north in an unpopulated area....it...it seems to have changed course? Sir, no missile or known aircraft could have made that turn and I am positive falling satellites do not maneuver in such ways. Wha.."

"Don't ask as I don't know, Junior Seargent. Just pull the tapes and call everyone in the book we are supposed to call about a downed aircraft...it's the only thing that could have been...."

(OOC: The Invisible Network (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=548041), inspired by the combination of those conspiracy theories in the Internet and by the concept of the Invisible Dictatorship (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Invisible_dictatorship) exists as sort of ultra-secret organization/secret society with ethically questionable black projects and as a secret government of Third Spanish States, has control over some sources of "partly omniscient information" more know as spy satellites. Would it be too much to consider that they captured this UFO crash image with their geostationary satellites? Because I was looking for something like this for a long time. If it's OK with you I'll be posting an IC reply soon with the details of a possible BlackOp.

*Edit: Other than the incomplete story. This is an example of their modus operandi, in something which was unfortunately "retconned":

http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=13556900&postcount=13

I would be interested in the FT part, but I only roleplay the FT version of Third Spanish States called Solar Communes, which is logically made of humans and at a completely different timeline. So I hope it's all-right with you this Black Op. It's no invasion at all, only... a "reconaissance" ONKA - "Operation Nobody Knows About" to attempt getting a piece of the UFO)

(ooc: I would be interested in playing the FT part. The Authority has a species that could broadly be considered human, but several thousand years of advanced genetic changes means their not really like baseline humans anymore. Plus the personality of anyone within the Mindlink is rather...strange.

Oh, and I got fancy tech which could be in some form recovered from the ship.)

ooc: Concider both accepted. I look forward to working with both of you very much!

OOC: Been interested in an MT/FT crossover for some time, so I'd like to join in. Any problems with a Hamilayan vessel off Zostar spotting the UFO entry?

They hadn’t seen the attack coming. The International Superhit was a luxuary Yatch, it was not designed to range to far from home, it was not meant to be carrying large amounts of cargo, and it was not designed to take any form of fire.

It had done all three. After taking a hit from a pirate cruiser the vessel had managed to jump out of the system, but immediately after dropping back into realspace the crew had been trying to control her.

“Ohshitohshitohshitohshit.” Came the voice of a figure that was doing nothing but rocking backwards and forwards on the balls of his feet. The figure was short, well below the baseline human, and seemed to have an extra digit on each finger.

“Ces, shut up!” screamed the figure in the pilot seat, trying to keep control of the ship witch was picking up speed into the planet below. “Come on baby, you can do this!”

“The ship isn’t sapient, it doesn’t even have a half decent AI.” The final figure, definetly feminine screamed. “You had to take the short cut, couldn’t buy an AI, couldn’t rent a hauler, no just use the damn luxuary yatch.”

“Oh what the hell would you know?! No, we’re not saving her.” He looked at the panels. “Get Ces strapped in please.” There was a scurry, as the feminine figure picked up the rocking one and placed her in the seat behind where she had been sitting, then strapped her in. “We are entering the atmosphere.”

From the outside the ship would look like a long dart, far to large to be a missile but with the same similar ship. The fire seemed to be burning on some unseen force, flame stretched well around the neat form, and all the way out to almost a hundred metres to either side. They where slowing themselves from the acceleration, trying to slow down.

“Uas, there is a fucking city there!” and suddenly the ship hauled itself to the side. Acclerating very suddenly and ripping the grav drive apart. When the vessel struck, it was more then three hundred and fifty kilometres north of the Zoster, once impacting, the vessel, more then fifty metres long, bounced three times, taking large gouts from the earth before finally striking and sliding a further few kilometres, before finally coming to rest.

The ship was shattered, the hull had been breached, almost everything inside had been broken. But in the crew compartment, where the three had been strapped in, all three had miraculously survived, though they where unconscious, and where all suffering wounds of some sort.

OOC: Been interested in an MT/FT crossover for some time, so I'd like to join in. Any problems with a Hamilayan vessel off Zostar spotting the UFO entry?

Love to have you in this! Feel free to join in.

0130 hours
RHS Watchword
202 kilometers off the Karshkovian coast
South of Zostar

A dark shape cut through the equally dark early morning waters at a sedate pace of fifteen knots. This was one of the Questralia-class patrol cruisers of the Federal Republic of Hamilay Navy, currently doing what she had been designed for. These cruisers were the long arm of the Navy, to provide a capable presence in all corners of the globe, also allowing them to function as highly effective plot devices, although none of the vessel's crew was aware of this particular role. This vessel now off the Karshkovian coast was designated RHS Watchword, and at the moment was on a completely routine patrol.

At this hour Watchword's bridge was almost empty. The officer on duty at the S-Band AESA radar console, one Lieutenant Fiennes, was drinking a cup of hot tea and intently watching the wall clock.

Two more bloody hours.

His thoughts were interrupted by a beeping from the display in front of him, and he looked down to see what it was. Fiennes' eyes moved past all the other contacts already crossing the screen and spotted the new arrival, close to the edge of the system's detection range over land.

There's a city there, isn't there?

Fiennes then looked closer. The contact was unidentified. Beside it was a number denoting its approximate speed. Which was over ten thousand kilometres per hour.

"Son of a bitch!" he shouted, causing the rest of the personnel on the bridge to instantly snap awake. "We have something heading down to Karshkovia real fast, possible ballistic threat!"

Courtesy of one of the others, alarms immediately began to sound throughout the ship. Within ten seconds Watchword's commanding officer, as well as a host of other bridge crew, burst in, the CO running straight to Fiennes' station. Captain Kirilenko was a short, wiry Slavic man in his forties with three years on the Watchword and ten more on four other Hamilayan naval vessels. As he skidded to a halt, he yelled aside to one of his crew.

"Sound battle stations! Lieutenant, what the hell is going on here?"

Fiennes pointed to the radar contact. "See for yourself, sir, we have something just appearing on the Karshkovian coast here, could be a ballistic missile."

"All hands to battle stations. I repeat, all hands to battle stations. This is not a drill," the electronic voice sounded.

"My God, their capital is right there," muttered Kirilenko. "Okay, but we will not jump to conclusions. Weapons, prepare SAMs and try and lock on the target." The target was at the extreme edge of the Sea Sabres' range and moving far too fast, but it was better than nothing. The Watchword began moving to position itself, but then the bridge crew saw what the Karshkovian radar stations did at the same time - the object abruptly changed course and sped off their scopes.

"What the hell was that?" asked Fiennes, after a surprised silence.

"We know it isn't a missile," said Kirilenko. "Bring the vessel down to heightened readiness. Keep your eyes open, Lieutenant. Comm, get me a channel to High Command."

With no shooting to show, the report of a patrol cruiser thousands of miles from Hamilay about an odd radar contact was not a particularly high priority, but things happened surprisingly fast when a copy of the vessel's logs was sent. Half an hour later, Watchword was ordered to hold position until further notice and await visitors. A UH-96 helicopter took off from the Ministry of Defence, carrying one passenger.

Meanwhile, a short message was sent to the Karshkovian government.

FROM: Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Federal Republic of Hamilay
TO: Republic of Karshkovia

One of our vessels in the region has detected a strange radar contact over your capital of Zostar. We would be greatly interested in determining the nature of this contact, and respectfully request information. We would be happy to provide our own data from the vessel's equipment.

OOC: Can I join? As an FT nation, I use mainly Star Wars tech and was thinking about being at war with the FT nation that crashed, my leader will then invade earth to intercept their technology...

OOC: Can I join? As an FT nation, I use mainly Star Wars tech and was thinking about being at war with the FT nation that crashed, my leader will then invade earth to intercept their technology...

(ooc: Trying to get a hold of Authority technology I could understand, being in a hot-war with the third most powerful individual state in ns ft...not so much. Invading an entire planet just to get a hold of tech...I don't mind, but it might be better for the thread if a more...subtle approach is taken. Thatway the MIB feel can be kept.)

ooc: Bull_horns_rule, you can definately work that out with Naggeroth. Like they had stated, I want to keep this a more MIB feel so you could work something out with them about the battle and escape, then your ship(s) finding their trail and it ending on a 'undeveloped' or 'low-tech' world.

If you are willing, it is possible that you could have some kind of government rule like the Prime Directive of Star Trek, so you are interested in getting the ship from the planet without arrousing the general population? Just an idea to help you join in if you wish. Now any battle you guys want to have in space, that is between you. Karshkovia has no space program as of yet (they are rebuilding the Cosmodrome left behind by Soviet Russia, but have no satellites or space craft.) however they do have two Yuan Wang class space-tracking ships (http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/world/china/yuan-wang.htm)that are active but in port right now (to be used with the up-coming space program).

IC:


0135 Local
12 April 2008
Karshkovia
Southern Coast Patrol Flight

Captain Michael Wright was flying at 12,000 meters around1200knots on full Afterburner, his cutting-edge Su-33 streaking through the night sky towards an nondescript spot in the Karshkovian Badlands. Why he and his flight of four were flying towards this spot was, what he was told, an aircraft had crashed. He didn't ask who's craft it was nor why they needed to rush to the crash.

Three minutes later Wright roared slowly over the crash site and gave a low whistle. Flying under 200 knots and about 300 meters, he was amazed at what he saw. The crash site was over three kilometers long with small fires burning along the deep scar. The ship itself was hidden by the dark, moonless night and small brushfires of the surrounding vegetation, however he was able to make out that it was much larger than any aircraft he had ever seen.

After making his fifth pass, he climbed back up to 2000 meters and reported back to Air Command.

“Winchester to base, we are at the crash site. No movement seen on the ground. No transmissions or response to any military, civilian or emergency channels. Numerous ground fires are obscuring the view of the craft.”

“Roger, Winchester, remain on station. Watch the area and report any changes. Maintain radio silence and escort any aircraft away from the airspace. Rescue helos are en route.”

0144 Local
12 April 2008
Karshkovia
Veltar Airbase, Air Command HQ.

Supreme Air Commander, General Beltro Genova, had been awaken 10 minutes before and rushed to the command center after being told there had been a crash of a craft of unknown origins. The first thing he ordered was to have the radar personnel and all recorded material from the EWR station collected and brought back to an isolated building at the airbase for review and debriefing. His second command was to have four fully loaded Mil-18's with armed troops sent to the crash site. He knew that this was no Karshkovian craft, however it wasn't to say that it wasn't some other nation's craft...and it was always better safe than sorry. His orders were to secure the site but do not shoot unless fired upon.

Now all that was left was to contact the president and inform him of this incident.

(ooc: Trying to get a hold of Authority technology I could understand, being in a hot-war with the third most powerful individual state in ns ft...not so much. Invading an entire planet just to get a hold of tech...I don't mind, but it might be better for the thread if a more...subtle approach is taken. Thatway the MIB feel can be kept.)

Sounds good to me...

OOC: If it's still open, the Vetalian research firm/defense contractor Cogent Laboratories will definitely get involved, if only to attempt to obtain the technology in the ship for profitable reverse engineering. Of course, we also have rivals that would also be interested in such a find...

ooc: love to have you!

NOTE TO ALL: after accepting Vetalia, I'll leave this open for two more MT, PMT, or Pre-FT nations and one more FT nation then close it up. (if Bull_horns_rule does not join, I'll have two more FT Nation spots open) I am going to create an OOC thread for this story now. If anyone wants to join or has questions about this, they would need to refer to that thread from this point forward.

OOC: Linky Plz...

IC: Darth Argos walked into the bridge, an officer greeted him, "What is thy bidding my master?"

"Let us explore the system of Sol, it is rumored many great nations lie there."

"Sol? Why that is not even close to where we presently are."

"I do not care, either you put this fleet into hyperspace or I will find somebody that will." He reached for his light saber.

"That will not be necessary." The officer then gave the command, "Prepare for hyperspeed."

The Imperial II-class Star Destroyers made the jump into hyperspace, disappearing into streaks of light into the distance. Seconds later the ships appeared, in the star system of Sol. The officer spoke, "Welcome to Sol."

"Search the system for life forms."

The officer then prompted a computer, it then spoke, "Select planet or planets."

The officer said, "All of them you decrepit piece of..." He started choking.

Darth Argos said, "Remember? I don't like swearing."

The officer coughed. "Yes, I am sorry my master. Look, we have the results, life is present on the third planet, they seem to be of similar humanoid type. They seem to be space capable, we also seem to be picking up another highly advanced race, the computer is being jammed by them, they must sense our presence."

"As I can sense them, there is a disturbance in the force..."

(OOC: Hmm... Looks interesting so far. I would be interested in joining in, but that's most likely a bit iffy... I try to keep my MT and FT selves separate...)

The space, an infinity of distances and opportunities beyond the grasp of current technology, but which potential presented is unlimited. The knowledge of the universe currently at human hands is incredibly limited, and even then, Super-Earths were already discovered, despite all limitations. All that was required was a few more breakthroughs in the next decades to open the solar system. But for now, space was something else, of limited uses. Orbiting geostationary to Earth, many satellites kept a constant activity for weather, for trasmissions and for surveillance. It was a probability that a mysterious unidentified flying object would be spotted by one of them, when it fell over Karshkovia territory.

It was a half-lit room with a noticeable symbol (http://img409.imageshack.us/img409/4444/invisiblenetworkbj0.png) at the flat wall of its entrance, where what seemed to be only shadows of three individuals watched the wide screens of a set of 8 different monitors slanted and fixed to a frame in the floor, raising very close to the ceiling, each sitting on comfortable, brown desk chairs next to terminals of what seemed to be a large mainframe sitting into the middle of such large room. Most of its walls and its ceiling were actually part of the large semi-anechoic chamber (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/52/Anechoic_chamber.jpg) which the room as a whole also consisted in, with a barely visible brown and white chess marble floor. Two of the screens, the leftmost, were giving the feed of infrared and low-light capable sousveillance cameras in the harbor of Hampshire Haven, while all the others were receiving satellite images from what could be nothing more than spy satellites under the control of whatever organization they belonged to.

One of the shadows stood, took a quick look at a digital clock near it and pointed his arm to the feed as something that they could not believe at was spotted by one of the satellites. It was something flying which collided in what was expected to be Kulikovia, and from the looks of that quick image, it was not of human origin. Soon a female voice came with a command:

"403, lock-return SATInt 5. 45."

Speech-to-text engines were particularly prone to failure, the reason why any complex set of commands required a highly synthetic manner of being given for a computer using such engines to properly interpret. And following the order, the screen at the lower right of the set changed to the static image of a very strange flying object. The resolution was not that incredible to allow it to be perfectly captured, but to all those in the room, it was clear that was not human, specially from the way it moved so fast as the same voice ordered for the recording to be shown in slow motion. They would enter to the unsung secret history of the world as some of the first to discover they were not alone, not even in Earth. Swirling thoughts came to the minds of these three mysterious individuals. The Network have found a potential source to in the future, achieve its greatest dream: to spread the ideals it was built upon beyond Earth, for no matter how petty squabbling over land and wealth in Earth was what maintained most power occupied, they knew that, in a long-term thinking, those who would definitively become the next powers would not be those with most territory and wealth in Earth, but out of it. Just like the pioneers of the Age of Sail were powers in their age, the pioneers of an yet to come, true Space Age would have a major advantage in their hands, and a great chance, if well used, to achieve supremacy over the world. And that not counting other technologies that could be reverse-engineered from such crashed shuttle.

Soon few select individuals became aware of the news, as in a massive room, dozens of masked individuals sat and were, using computers as intermediaries, discussing what should be done to ensure that this fallen object shall fall in the right hands... their hands. After some long debates, a plan was presented to infiltrate a small Black Ops covert cell, and all the information they could gather from public sources on Karshkovia was given, as for now they lacked more in depth sources of intelligence, as they were still solidifying their infiltration skills on softer targets.

"Think well about this proposal, for each operative sent will have only two outcomes: success or suicide, as although neither of them know about our organization, we cannot afford to allow their origins to be discovered should they fail. They will be issued with nonstandard civilian clothings and unmarked Type III ballistic vests rather than uniforms, and with Russian weaponry and equipment rather than indigenous. Now, you have five minutes to ponder and then make your decision. Alenda Occultum est, Liber est Homini", was the message that appeared on a dynamic sort of virtual chat room. For him, it seemed like a Deja Vu to repeat such words, and somewhat unsettling, for he could still remember the last outcome of a similar decision, from which nobody returned alive.

The individuals had their time to ponder, and a consensus was achieved after those five minutes as the majority decided for such operation to be started, of the sort that nobody acknowledges. Secrecy has been indeed a constant in the type of interventionism the homeland they "influenced" had, for publicly, the Confederacy was a heavily isolationist land with no interest in more aggressive forms of international actions, perhaps because of their unwavering belief that if this facade could be maintained, it would be possible to influence the world, without getting into the spotlight, as unsung heroes would inevitably die, with no glories in history books, nor memories of their deeds, but only the certainty that their efforts, although not recognized, would not be in vain. By all official accounts, these people were already dead while such operations happened. A single Buque de Proyección Secreta, a fully stealth and relatively small aircraft-carrying vessel capable of only at most having two STOLs and developed as a black project unknown by all, was being readied for a long trip towards Karshkovia, which would take about 18 days. On it an AT-42 Blackgull (http://z4.invisionfree.com/NSDraftroom/index.php?showtopic=1976&view=findpost&p=2846872), yet another black project (http://www.defenseindustrydaily.com/images/AIR_K-X_MACK-type_Concept_lg.gif), was an stealth transport aircraft for Black Ops, the usual standard issue for when the discreet nature of an An-2 would not be enough for bypassing the radars in the destination.

Following the last preparations for the refueling, and the need of deploying them without suspicions from the members of the military who weren't aware of their existence, together with a trio of a covert cell of field agents chosen for the mission, took them further 3 days through night-time transportations using ubiquitous and normal vehicles to disguise the operation. The AT-42 flew through the night sky of the Confederacy, heading towards the now otherwise inactive harbor of Hampshire Haven, the same which Network's cameras watched, and according to the pre-mission instructions, for even a Low Probability of Intercept datalink still had its risks, both pilot and navigator, whose names did not exist in any Air Force or Navy registers. And soon their TVR systems spotted the shadow in the sea, and after a few maneuvers in air, the AT-42 landed successfully on the small flight deck of the BPS, as its pilots came to the lower decks, strangely keeping their helmets, possibly to avoid visual identification, where vacant crew bunks were available for them. It was a quite unusual fact that the entire crew of the ship was wearing masks and was completely silent, hiding their identities from each other. In an empty bunk, three members of the same covert cell chosen for the operation, were playing poker as a way to spend time during the long trip that was about to begin. "This time", an old man hoped, "we are not going to fail again". The shadow of the BPS blended into the sea, and as long as it avoided getting too close from other vessels, the chances of it being detected would be almost zero.

Seated next to the open doorway, Sergent Sergi Greven watched the landscape race by underneath the military transport helicopter. Unconsciously he flexed his fingers around the AK-47 and glanced down at the Geiger counter secured between his feet.

The quick briefing he had been given did little to quell his dark fear that much was being withheld from the men in his unit. He just hoped that it would not lead to any deaths. While the story he was told claimed that an experimental craft had crashed and his men were to secure the crash until the craft could be recovered. He didn't for a second believe that however, and the flimsy story that the geiger counter was just a precaution left him worried.

Five minutes later, he and the other men had landed and disembarked from the helicopters. What they saw amazed them. It was a craft of some sort, and from it's advanced look it was definitely possible that it was an experimental craft as they had been told. They all knew, however, that Karshkovia was working towards starting their space program so it couldn't have been a Karshkovian craft.

As they surrounded the craft to guard it, Sergi thought he saw movement in one of the large holes in the hull...

“Fabricator be damned Uas.” The feminine figure muttered as she looked around the wreckage of the ship. “We’re alive.” She unbuckled herself and fell from the chair onto the wall to her right, before climbing to check on the other two. Ces was fine, as if there had been any doubt, but Uas had gone into metabolic slowdown. She Unlatched him and was crushed under his falling body with a loud oof.

“Ces, wake up!” she yelled as she tried to heave the body off her. She saw the figure’s eyes open slightly, then in a different moment they snapped open and looked around wildly. “Ces, calm down, we are going to be okay. Can you help me.”

“I detect major damage, major damage.” She said as she opened what strapped her in and landed gracefully on her feet. “Even the interface is damaged. We should mindlink to someone at home, get them to come.”

“You’re kidding, and let them know what we where doing?” the feminine form said as Ces hauled the body of Uas off her. “We will be…well they will do something.”

“Better then being stuck in some half assed wor…” there was a pause, and Ces cocked her head. “Yasan, I hear something, sounds like a primitive aircraft of some sort.” That caused panic, both begun to climb to the door, moving into the more secure area of the ship. Or at least, that was what it was meant to be, a great gash in the outer plating of the ship left the entire area exposed. As they went past Ces noticed the small approaching black speck in the sky. “Shield yourself, I don’t want you to become harmed.”

Once Yasan had a shield, they merely waited, once the troops set down, Ces made a single hand gesture to the woman before she dissapered. The movement Sergi saw was her form moments before she came flying out of the hole in the ship. When she landed, it was on the other side of the majority of the squad.

“Hei-merra Tasmon exellion?” was muttered to the squad, who’s attention would be firmly on her, and not the ship. “Talos enterminas Thren.”

Sergent Sergi Greven's attention was away from the hole when Ces leaped out of the ship and on the other side of the men, though it only took him a fraction of a second to process the streaking movement out of the corner of his eye. When Ces landed, it was pure shock that kept the Karshkovian soldiers from opening fire or even raising their weapons until a second or two after she touched down.

Eleven AK-47s were aimed at Ces, but Sergi found that he could not...or would not...raise his weapon.

It wasn't human.

Whatever this creature was, Sergi knew it was intelligent, not human and beyond all doubt it was not hostile. If it had been, it would have jumped on the soldiers as they passed by not over their heads and beyond them. It made no threatening motions and there didn't appear to be a weapon in it's hands.

However, for all this reasoning, Sergi realized that many of the other soldier were scared beyond reason or their minds had shut down from the shock. Either way, he knew that the rational reasoning mind was in shock and stripped away. The irrational animal mind was starting to take over.

Sergi ran to the front row of troops, commanding them in russian to hold their fire and lower their weapons. He slapped the closest soilder's rifle down. Thankfully, the training to obey superiors was well ingrained in them and they somewhat reluctantly did as ordered. While the weapons were lowered to point at the ground near Ces's feet, none were pointed at her being.

“Hei-merra Tasmon exellion?” Ces muttered to the soldiers.

Sergi's mouth nearly fell onto the ground. While the physical appearance was a shock, it was when Ces spoke that Sergi's mind reel from the true acceptance that this was an alien. All the science fiction movies, books and TV shows, all the looking up at the stars wondering, all the wondering if we were actually alone was gone in an instant for him. This was real.

“Talos enterminas Thren.”

Sergi slung his rifle over his right shoulder and raise his hands, elbows bent with his fingers splayed out and palms facing Ces, to show her he had no weapons in his hands.

"Greetings friend. I welcome you to the planet Earth and the country Karshkovia. We mean you no harm."

Sergi repeated the greeting in Russian, looking for any response.

*bump*

OOC:

http://www.forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=13608114&postcount=8

*cough*

How difficult would it be to slip an aircraft undetected through Karshkovian air defences?

When their weapons raised Ces had tensed. She wasn’t worried of their fire, she was wearing a personal shield, and if push came to shove she would get enough leeway to move. What worried her was Yasan deciding it was a threat. There between them a silent exchange that lasted the time that it took Sergi to lower their weapons.

<Aw crap,> Yasan sent <Their Hostile.>

<Negative> the mental scream came back. <Their jumpy, remember their dealing with an Oh-Cee-Pee, we just crashed in a civilisation that haven’t even achieved regular space-flight, let alone Ef-Tee-El. Our ship probably used up more energy in that single manuver then they use to power their entire city in a month.>

<So there’re suffering System Shock.> came a third voice, as Uas apparently woke. But before that could be followed Sergi spoke. There was a something about this man standing before her, he hadn’t raised a weapon, and had ordered his men to stand down.

<Com-nannies?> Uas asked ‘softly’ through their mindlink. Ces nodded, then withdrew a single syringe from her cote. Holding one hand up, she gabbed herself in the neck and injected half of the ice blue liquid into it, before offering the needle to Sergi.

“Seras,” she said, making a gesture of talking, “Alwoans mecharas.”

Sergi watched as Ces withdrew a single syringe from her cote and injected herself in the neck with the lightly glowing blue liquid, then offered the syringe to Sergi.

Intergalactic peace pipe? Some space drug? Sergi thought. He couldn't connect how her mimes of speach related to a liquid in a syringe. Well, what the hell. If this creature meant to do us harm, it would have long before offering me a syringe.

Sergi, slowly stepped forward as not to startle Ces but also because he wanted to be able to jump back in case it may have been a trap. He reached out and lightly took the syringe from her outstretched hand.

"Sir, I protest this action. We have no idea what is in that or what it is supposed to do." his second in command, Corporal Smith, voiced.

"Your concerns and protests are noted Corporal." Sergi growled while studying the syringe.

Finally, he worked up the courage to inject the liquid into his common carotid artery. There was a feeling of immediate cold around the area that the needle entered, and he started to bleed a bit from the injection, though that quickly stopped.

Suddendly his perceptions exploded with color and light. He as if he was falling, flying, and standing still all at the same time. It quickly passed and he found that his skin was flush.

The real shock came immediately afterwards though....

minor insignificant bump