NationStates Jolt Archive

Mok Rent, 30th July 1208 A.D.

They had made their base at the top of the small mountain, only a couple of hundred feet high. Its steep, grey, rocky cliff face surrounded the peak, and several battlements were perched along the ridge at strategic points, and manned by some of the most skilled archers the enemy had left in their army. Indeed, the only way to the top of the fortress was through a cavern at the heart of the mountain, which had a cave leading up to the surface and was very heavily guarded. Worse still, the mountain had a natural moat as it was located just off the shore of the mainland, with the sea crashing against its cliffs and occasionally flooding the caves beneath. By all accounts it was the perfect fortification; its only real downfall was the ease with which a siege of attrition could be waged against it, and they had supplies inside to last them for months. Any other conventional strategy would certainly be met with failure.

However, their opponents were not entirely conventional. Haoaeran troops massed on the shores of the nearby mainland, just beyond the reach of enemy archers and yet close enough for them to be clearly visible. Their colourful feathery bodies were covered with a sophisticated combination of plate and chain armour, which was lightweight enough for them to move around easily and yet strong enough to resist some attacks. It was certainly more advanced than anything their enemy, the Sarnak, had at their disposal, and it was their technological prowess which had allowed them to win this war.

In the midst of the morass of soldiers were several large trebuchet-like devices, armed and poised to fire rocks, and leathery objects filled with oil that would be set alight before their flight. All of them were aimed at the mountain fortification across the water, and they certainly had the range to cause it some damage.

This war had raged for decades, though it had been brewing for centuries. Both the Haoaeran and the Sarnak resided together on an archipelago of islands that was essentially a 'lost world' so far as the rest of the globe was concerned; shared by these two intelligent, non-human races, it was untouched by man and its evolution had been separated from the rest of the world by millions of years, with some entirely unique species of animal forming there as a result - including some distant descendants of the dinosaurs. Unfortunately as time went by, both intelligent races found points of contention other than their traditional generational disdain for one another - both wanted to expand, but the islands were not big enough.

From the beginning, the Sarnak had been on the offensive. Over two hundred years ago they had already begun such underhanded tactics as poisoning Haoaeran eggs, burning Haoaeran homes and civil structures to ashes in the darkness of night, slaughtering nests of Haoaeran chicks, contaminating their sources of food and water, all in an attempt to rid the island of the normally benign folk without needing to lift a sword. Predictably the Haoaeran response had been outrage, followed by several large attacks against Sarnak military outposts and mines. These skirmishes continued with neither side gaining ground for decades before finally, the Haoaeran proclaimed full-scale war.

It had been a risky decision. The Sarnak outnumbered them two to one, and the reptilian creatures were hardy folk at best. Worse, while the Haoaeran made their homes in wooden shelters in open plains, and even in the trees, the Sarnak had most of their population in caves and underground caverns, where attacking them would be difficult at best. But for the Haoaeran it had been the only choice. Sending many of their people to their deaths was an unpleasant prospect for anyone, but allowing the Sarnak to continue their dishonourable tactics of attempted genocide was simply unacceptable. Haoaeran might not have been as numerous or tough as the Sarnak, but their technology was a level above theirs, and the Haoaeran had a significant mobility advantage -light, comparatively diminutive and very agile, their ability to fly for short distances with weapons and armour had afforded them a great advantage over the Sarnak once they were routed from their underground havens.

And now, it was nearing the end. From the beginning, this had been a life-or-death war - one side was going to emerge the victor, while the other side would be wiped out. Despite their disadvantages the Haoaeran had managed to push the Sarnak back, and back, and back again until this was their last remaining outpost. Mok Rent was their last bastion, and the Sarnak seemed determined to hold on to it. Only a few hundred Sarnak remained alive, from a population of thousands, shifting the advantage of numbers over to the Haoaeran, who had suffered incalculable losses of their own. Were the Haoaeran victorious in an attack here, the Sarnak would be no more. Extinct. Defeated.

But their leader, Jaoeli, the Mon Haoaera, wasn't keen on being the mastermind behind a genocide. He sat in conference with his Primaries, the highest-ranking officers of the Haoaeran Militia, in a small tent at the rear of their garrison, attempting to decide a course of action that might end this war. He feared the worst, knowing in his heart that the Sarnak would rather have themselves killed than submit to surrender.

Nevertheless, moments after the Mon Haoaera emerged with his Primaries and began squawking orders to some Standards, one of the catapults was suddenly unleashed, allowing all of its stored energy to be transfered into a single boulder which soared quickly across the small stretch of sea and cleared the walls of the fortress. It landed with a deep thump in the grassy area within the complex, embedding itself into the soil and attracting the attention of nearby Sarnak officers. They quickly discovered the piece of parchment tied onto the rock and hurried it to their leaders. Hastily scribbled out the parchment expressed the desire of the Haoaeran to end this war before it was too late, and offered them favourable terms.

Their response was swift and clear. Haoaeran Standards quickly flapped clear of the area where an eighteen inch arrow, wrapped in tow, doused in oil and set ablaze, stuck into the ground in the midst of their army. It had no note attached. It was an obvious refusal.

"Soldiers!" the Mon Haoaera called out moments later. Soldiers of all ranks turned around to focus their gazes on their leader as he spoke. "Our time draws near. This war has been long and brutal, but we have turned the tide from hopeless to hopeful! Within that fortress are the last of the Sarnak. These are the people who would kill your young before they even hatch, burn your homes to the ground while you sleep, kill your mate, and poison your food.

"We offered them surrender, a chance to reform their ways - they refused. Now, one last time, we must fight with passion and honour, for the victory we have all craved for so long. We are all fatigued, war-torn, battle weary. But we must all summon the strength and courage to do what is necessary, one last time. It is time... to end this war!"

Hundreds of Haoaeran soldiers simultaneously lifted a few feet off the ground, threw their arms into the sky and squawked with zeal and joy as the inspiring words of their leader washed over them, like soapy water cleaning away the dirt that caked their feathers. They needed no more orders, nor prompting or encouragement - immediately, all of the catapults unleashed flaming, oil-filled projectiles across the sea, followed by rocks and shrapnel, all intended to take out the guarded battlements with one fell swoop and clear the way for Haoaeran Standards to take to the skies and clear the distance. All that remained of the Haoaeran Militia took flight, an incredible, colourful sight, and flew quickly across the sea and dove down into the fortress, to their fates.

***

Mok Rent, 30th July 2008 A.D.

Eight hundred years had passed. The Sarnak, long since defeated and destroyed at the Battle of Mok Rent, were not forgotten by the Haoaeran who had thrived in their absence. Today was Unification Day, the day that Haoaeran across the islands both celebrated and mourned at the same time. For it was the anniversary of the establishment of Haoaeran freedom and independence, and yet it was also the day when their ancestors were forced to commit genocide. These days folks tried to focus on the positives and celebrated, but it was difficult to escape the grim reality of their past. And today was a particularly special occasion, as it was exactly eight hundred years ago to the day.

Mok Rent was no longer a Sarnak base, but instead the small, flat-topped mountain had been completely covered with a large, modern town with some eight hundred thousand residents. So crammed was the mountain that some buildings hung precariously over the cliff face, though despite their unsteady position these buildings were usually highly sought after for the views they offered. Some of the ancient Sarnak fortifications remained in various states of disrepair, including parts of the walls and battlements that ran along the cliffs. In their initial victory the Haoaeran had occupied the fort and renovated it to their liking, keeping it as a fall-back position in case more Sarnak troops remained somewhere on the islands. Most of the remains were still of Sarnak construction though, and had become tourist attractions during summer months.

The town itself was typical of most Haoaeran towns; fairly cramped, there were few high-rise buildings in order to keep the skies clear. Many of the buildings were designed to have entrances on the rooftops as well as the ground, and they all had a distinctive form of architecture that relied on angular beams of wood laid between conventional bricks, and multicoloured designs. While there were roads criss-crossing between the blocks for automotive transports to drive across, they were mostly empty - instead, Haoaeran flew around the city in droves, forming neat, two-way streams of aerial traffic as they followed the roads a dozen feet above the ground.

For today, a carnival had been put up in the town square, and it was by far the most busy area of town as the day was officially a national holiday for the majority of the country. Parades, entertainment shows and alcoholic refreshments were all over the place, and Haoaeran everywhere were enjoying the festivities.

Almost everywhere, anyway. While the Haoaeran Militia had all but disappeared in the eight hundred years of peace that had followed the defeat of the Sarnak, a few small pockets were still maintained 'just in case'. In Mok Rent, one of the northernmost ancient battlements had been renovated and occupied by the Militia, for the purposes of coastal monitoring. On today of all days on a few Standards manned the monitoring station, gazing wearily at the RADAR displays, longing to get outside and join in with the rest of their countrymen. Until, for the first time in anybody's memory, there was a 'bleep' on the monitor.

Standard Kechai blinked his small yellow eyes for a few moments, and opened his parrot-like beak in disbelief. When the 'bleep' happened for a second time he jumped forwards in his seat, nearly knocking himself unconscious on the screen in the process. Sure enough, a small green dot appeared at the edge of their RADAR range.

"What's that you're doing Kechai?" Standard Eekuki called out from the other side of the circular room. Kechai could hear Eekuki's clawed feet tapping on the stone floor as he came over to Kechai's station, but he didn't turn his head away from that dot on the screen.

"Something... is on on the RADAR..." Kechai said at last, his high-pitched voice slow with confusion.

"What?!" Eekuki exclaimed. The Haoaeran quickly pushed Kechai's chair to one side and brought his own face up to the screen, and promptly stood back in surprise when he saw it. "Must be a whale or something."

"I don't think so..." Kechai said. Unsure of what to do, he unhooked a telephone-like object from the wall beside him and put the receiver to his beak. "Secondary Petcha... we have a contact..."

***

While the festivities raged on unabashed in Mok Rent and elsewhere in Haoaera, the government and the Militia were panicking. Something had appeared on RADAR, an unprecedented event. Whatever it was, it was large, and it was very slowly moving towards their archipelago. Quickly a small expeditionary squadron was assembled to investigate it, a risky endeavour to be sure. Haoaeran could fly quite a way, but ever since their species evolved intelligence that distance had shrunk in proportion to their increased weight. It was feared that if a team was sent to investigate the object and it turned out to be nothing, the team would have nowhere to land and recuperate and would fall into the ocean. And Haoaeran weren't great swimmers.

Still, several of their best-trained Standards, and a Tertiary to command them, quickly volunteered to take part in what had the potential to be a history-changing moment. They forwent the burden of armour or assault rifles in order to save weight, and merely clipped a sidearm into each of their belts and each wore a small cellular headset. Their Tertiary also carried a small PDA with a map loaded onto it with the rough position of the object, so that they could find it as quickly as possible.

"I don't know what you'll find out there," Secondary Petcha had told Tertiary Jeckie and his men before they'd left. "But it could be a threat to peace. Investigate, evaluate, and either control or eliminate. Use your judgement. And if it turns out to be nothing... try to get your men back as quickly as you can. We'll keep an eye on you, and I've prepared a small boat to go and pick you up if the worst happens. May the gods bless your flight, Secondary."

Those words rang through Jeckie's mind as he and his three men flapped their hardest to clear the water below them and make it to the object before they succumbed to exhaustion. By now the object had seemingly drifted closer to Haoaera, no longer on the edge of their RADAR range but instead only tens of miles away. Militia troops were some of the fittest Haoaerans around, but even they suffered on prolonged flights, and already Jeckie could feel his wings burning as they travelled. He had aimed to keep them high in the sky, to allow them to glide a fair way before dropping into the ocean if they did run out of strength, but they were slowly descending already.

And then, he saw it.

An enormous metal construction, unlike anything he'd seen before, floating on the water like it was made of foam. Its surface was mostly flat, like a road, with markings painted onto it as though something were supposed to drive around on the deck. On one side of this deck was a large tower, presumably housing the controls of the vessel. It must have been almost two hundred metres in length, truly a feat of engineering. The Haoaerans, though having inadvertently achieved technological parity with the rest of the world in terms of electronics and industry, had never seen any point to ship building. It was theorised, but they had never seen anything like it.

"That thing is huge!" Standard Chikori squawked as they came closer to the vessel.

"It doesn't seem to be powered," Standard Kichik observed. "There's no sign that they've seen us."

"Alright soldiers," Jeckie said. "Land on that flat area, next to the tower. Watch out for anything out of the ordinary."

"I'm seeing something out of the ordinary right now sir!" Chikori exclaimed.

"Anything else out of the ordinary then," Jeckie sighed. "Alright men, on my mark... dive!"

The four Haoaeran suddenly stopped flapping the wings on their backs and pulled them back, straightening their bodies and pointing their heads forwards to streamline themselves as they plunged down through the air towards the abandoned aircraft carrier. At the last possible minute their unfurled their wings again and spread them wide, which immediately slowed their descent and allowed them to safely drop and roll on the deck of the ship. All of them immediately pulled out their sidearms while they remained still to regain some of their strength.

"See anything?" Jeckie chittered quietly. All of them were carefully looking around for any kind of crew, while Jeckie glanced up at the control tower that rose up above them, not seeing any movement through the windows.

"Looks abandoned," Standard Shipori said in a hushed voice. "I wonder who built it?"

"Alright, let's split into two teams," Jeckie said, standing upright to his full height of almost five feet. "Chikori, Kichik, see if you can find a way beneath this deck. If this ship has a crew, there might be some down there. Myself and Shipori will try and find a way inside this control tower. Keep your channels open at all times and report in anything. Understood?"

The three Standards all nodded in acknowledgement.

"All right, let's move," Jeckie said. The two teams split up and began searching for any kind of doors.

(OOC: That's all I can type right now. Yes, these are a MT non-human species. I hope nobody minds. If anybody wants to claim this aircraft carrier as their own, lost at sea, that's cool. So long as nobody immediately appears out of nowhere and starts rampaging across Haoaera for no reason! I don't want a war right now if that's OK. Oh yeah, you can move into the area after my next post if you like, as they'll trigger some kind of signal on the carrier, but until then if you could just set the scene for your own involvement rather than appearing I'd appreciate it. Thanks!

P.S. Extra kudos for anybody who knows the original inspiration for all of this!)

(OOC: This is a bump due to the moderator thing that prevented my post appearing for hours. I know the mods get through them as quickly as they can, I just wish Jolt would disable them. Though that won't be a problem for much longer from I hear, right?)

OOC: Well my nation is supposed to be landlocked but I am in the process of buying a section of an island so... I'll find a way to creatively take control of this aircraft carrier.
IC:

Dragon's Ridge air base:

Commander Dragonborn was slumped in his seat, "God-dammit people. We lost an aircraft carrier, really? It was our first one, c'mon now." An officer looked up, "Sir, we just got a birst from the beacon onboard. We can dispatch planed to look for it." The commander ran his hand through his hair, "Well we have no choice. The council will kill us if we lose this thing, especially with the money we paid and the section of island it was going to patrol... okay, deploy aircraft. Mark the position, it can't stray too much." The officer nodded.

On the airfield, a few recon planes were being readied for their mission. To find the missing aircraft carrier. Greywatch was a landlocked nation, and this beauty meant a lot to them as they were using it to secure a section of island they were intending to buy. It was a complex process, Greywatch had been relying on a few friends so that the carrier could be built and docked when not in use. It was decided that the ship should be taken for a spin, apparently dring a storm, Greywatch lost contact with it. It was missing, but that was going to change.

OOC2: Can there be some crew hiding on board?

(OOC: Well... it wouldn't really be abandoned if it had crew aboard. I'll make it so that they're trapped somewhere below deck, that should be OK! If you don't like that I'll edit it out.)

Standards Chikori and Kichik had managed to find a way of getting below deck - ironically through a door into the island tower. It appeared as though power had been cut to most of the decks of the ship, although some battery powered lights still provided meek illumination of the narrow metal corridors.

It was a very strange place, this ship. The corridors were unnervingly narrow as though space was a luxury on this enormous craft, and the bare metal walls were covered with pipes, cables, and various forms of signage written in a completely incomprehensible dialect to them. Many of the rooms they passed had bunks in them, along with assorted other furniture such as desks and the most uncomfortable-looking chairs Kichik had ever seen. Some even had computers within them, but it only took a quick glance at the screens and the input devices to realise that they wouldn't be able to understand them. They could taste the faint aroma of what seemed like motor oil or gasoline in the distance, although they couldn't find where it was coming from for the moment.

The two Haoaeran made their way through the tight corridors, keeping their sidearms out and their wings tucked in. Haoaeran were naturally claustrophobic, as being confined to tight spaces took away their main defensive ability, that of flight. In there they couldn't even stretch their wings, much less fly away from danger. A combination of this sensation of claustrophobia, and the nerves they had already built up simply by being on this alien ship, made for a dangerous cocktail of emotions, especially when paired with a firearm.

As though attempting to prove that, Kichik almost banged his head on the compartment's overhead when Chikori's sidearm suddenly spewed out a slug of metal into the darkness. Its bang echoed down the quiet corridors and reverberated around Kichik's head, who promptly planted a clawed hand on Chikori's arm and forced it down.

"Are you trying to kill us?!" he squawked angrily. "What are you shooting at?!"

"I thought I saw something move!" Chikori protested. "In the distance! Over there!"

Kichik took a few steps towards where he had pointed and squinted into the dark corner for a few moments, unable to see much as the emergency lighting didn't reach that far. He shook his head and looked back at Chikori.

"There's nothing there, seed brain!" he scolded the younger Haoaeran. "Put your weapon on safety, and don't shoot at anything unless I tell you to!"

"Fine!" Chikori snapped back, switching his sidearm to safety and lowering it a little.

They continued to make their way through the corridors, until they finally found the source of that smell they'd been detecting. As Chikori opened one of the bulkhead doors while Kichik covered him, they both lowered their weapons and opened their beaks in awe at the same time. An enormous, cavernous room was presented to them, easily spanning as much space as a hockek sports field. The room itself wasn't the source of their surprise, but what it contained - seemingly dozens of metal, winged contraptions, resting on wheels and apparently unused. Kichik and Chikori could only imagine that these machines were used for flight, but as the aeroplane hadn't been invented in Haoaera (again, it had only been theorised, but as long-distance flight wasn't necessary for them, it had never been developed) they had never seen anything like them.

"This is weird!" Chikori spluttered. "Who the heck built this thing?!"

"I don't know," Kichik said thoughtfully. "But I'm pretty sure it's not Haoaeran."

Chikori looked at him for a few moments before unleashing his bemusement. "You thought this was HAOAERAN?!"

"Well, I suspected..." Kichik shrugged.

"Don't you think somebody would have noticed something this big before?!"

"I don't know, I thought it might have been a secret project or something," Kichik said. "Like scientists say, the best answer is the simple answer."

"It'd be pretty hard keeping something like this a secret for very long," Chikori said. "Besides, don't you..."

"Shh," Kichik interrupted him. "Can you hear that?"

"What?"

Both went silent, their heads darting as they tried to listen for a distant sound. Chikori finally noticed it, carried on the slight draft that seemed to waft through the hangar bay. It was a light tapping sound, like somebody hitting a hammer against an anvil a long way away, but it sounded too frequent and deliberate to simply be a dangling cable or something. Cautiously they moved across the hangar, keeping their distance from the fighter jets, and homed in on the sound, using trial and error to test different doors and corridors to see where it was coming from.

After a few minutes the sound led them down a corridor, and they finally found its source. Standing in front of this locked bulkhead door they could hear the banging clearly from the other side, as though someone was hitting the metal wall with a pipe or something. Quietly Kichik and Chikori exchanged glances before retreating out of earshot.

"Tertiary, this is Kichik," Kichik spoke into his headset. "We've found a locked door that sounds like somebody is banging on the other side. I'm not sure if we should open it."

"We came here to find out what was going on," Jeckie's sharp voice came back through the speaker. "Open it but proceed with caution. If you've found some crew they might need help, and might know something about this ship."

"Understood sir," Kichik acknowledged, exchanging a concerned glance with Chikori.

They made their way back to the door, which was still being hammered by some persistent soul on the other side. With one nod from Kichik, who drew his sidearm again and pointed it towards the door, Chikori sighed and wrapped his talons around the dog, the wheel which sealed the watertight hatch. It resisted at first, and Haoaeran aren't especially strong at the best of times, let alone after a long flight. But with the use of a piece of metal piping he found around the corner, Chikori managed to lever the dog wheel enough to loosen it. He tossed the pipe away and began spinning the wheel with his hands again, wincing at the creaking sound it made.

Finally the door clunked open, and Chikori pulled it to one side to see what was inside...

***

"We came here to find out what was going on," Jeckie said into the speaker, responding to Kichik's question. "Open it but proceed with caution. If you've found some crew they might need help, and might know something about this ship."

"Understood sir," Kichik's voice came back through the speaker. Jeckie had half a mind to go below deck and help them out, but he was determined to find something of use in this control tower. Their search had been much less productive thus far; while Kichik and Chikori had found fighter jets and crew members, Tertiary Jeckie and Standard Shipori had found water-logged corridors, disabled computers and soggy meals.

At last, however, they clambered up some stairs clumsily and found what they were looking for - at the top of the control tower, surrounded by windows overlooking the deck and the sea, was the bridge. And Jeckie couldn't understand any of it.

Some of the controls looked to be simple; he could see the helm, whose function was fairly obvious. Other than that and the lightswitch though, none of it made much sense.

"We need some experts," Jeckie sighed. There was no way it could be commandeered without somebody to spend some time figuring out what all the controls were supposed to do. They'd be more likely to sink the thing than bring it into port.

"It can't be that difficult," Shipori shrugged. He turned around and looked at one of the consoles, and immediately pressed a red button that was distanced from the others. Red for Haoaera was a good-luck colour, signalling good fortunes and prosperity. Little did Shipori know that it meant 'emergency' in other cultures. He'd inadvertently triggered an automatic distress signal.

"Don't touch anything, Standard!" Jeckie snapped. "Come on, there's another room over there - let's see if it makes any more sense."

As the door opened a man stumbled out, "Jesus! Air. Dammit, you would have no idea how long I've-" he stopped for a moment, his brown hair covering his face, he quickly looked up, a fierce look in his blue eyes, "And just what the hell would you guys be?" There was another voice, "Sir! What's going on? Johnny here still needs medical assistance!" The man got to his feet quickly, "Right, right I heard you. Gimme a second!" He looked to the two creatures, there were assault rifles in the room, he had a pistol, but he didn't know the situation. "I need to get some medical supplies or my man is dead, I'm going to assume you're friendly."

Electronic Warfare Air Control System(EWACS)-346, Callsign 'Eagle-Alpha', on patrol 200 kilometers North of Red Tidean Naval/Air Outpost NAO-54

ECO(Electronic Communications Officer)-5413, codename 'Nikolai' ran through the motions he did every flight, constantly checking the various communications systems to make sure they worked fine and making sure that everything was in working order. A signal transmission caught his eye. Opening up his communication link with the Aircraft CO, he began to speak.

"Tovarish Lieutenant-Colonel, distress signal at bearing 6-8-1. Definantly an SOS signal. Is there anything up there?"

A moments pause, then Lieutenant-Colonel Mikhail Suvorovich Bukharin replied, "Da, we have a single contact, a ways off in that direction. Alert base and request a corvette of something. Then try and establish radio contact with the contact. IFF indicates it's a Greywatch ship, so try a frequency they use... oh and use English!"

As Nikolai contacted base, he felt the plane under him bank in the direction of the contact. They were going to go in for a closer look.

The Aircraft Carrier Bridge

Moments before Jeckie and Shipori left the bridge, the ships radio crackled to life and a Russian-accented voice, in English, began to speak over it.

"This is EWACS-346, callsign 'Eagle-Alpha' to unidentified contact that is requesting emergency assistance. Come-in, over."

There was a moments pause, then the message began to repeat.

"What in the name of Mon Haoaera are those?!" Chikori exclaimed, on seeing the 'creatures' that awaited him behind the door. He went to pull out his sidearm, more out of instinct than anything, but Kichik placed a talon on his arm to stop him.

Strange creatures, they were. Completely bald, standing vertically, they had flat faces, smooth skin except for the tufts of fur that adorned the tops of their heads, and the peculiar digits lacked claws of any kind, instead donning thin razor-blades of some kind. They spoke gibberish, but their deep, monotone voices reverberated around the room and was clearly an intelligent language of some kind. Regardless of their appearance, they were obviously members of the crew, and Kichik felt they should accord them proper respect - lest they turn out to be more dangerous than a Sarnak when riled.

"I... am... Kichik..." Kichik said, his squawking voice made as smooth and as slow as he could manage in a futile attempt to communicate with them. In the process he placed a clawed talon against his feathered chest to symbolise that he was identifying himself.

"You... are... monkeybrain..." Chikori mocked him. "They can't speak Haoaeran, you, erm... sir!"

Kichik gave him a glare, the kind that sends daggers straight to one's heart, before returning his glance to the group of strangers. He turned his beady eyes away from the man who spoke to him, and onto some other members of his crew who appeared to be injured. Alien though they might be, lying on the floor and moaning, whilst being tended to by your kin, wasn't considered healthy in anybody's culture.

"Have you got your medkit?" Kichik asked Chikori, who gave him a horrified glance and opened his beak a little.

"You're giving them our medical supplies now?" he exclaimed. "What if they turn around and shoot us?! What are we going to patch ourselves up with?"

"Just do it, Standard," Kichik snapped. "Nothing that might be too specific to Haoaeran bodies though."

Chikori sighed a little and reached into a small pouch that hung from his belt. His black, scaly talons pulled out a series of plastic-packed bandages, some needles and disinfectant, and a small bottle of paoerin - a potent analgesic derived primarily from opiates and assorted other chemicals, not too dissimilar from morphine. With some marked hesitation, he stepped forwards and handed the bundle to the foreigner before quickly stepping back, flapping his wings in agitation as he did so.

***

Meanwhile on the bridge, Jeckie and Shipori found their trip to the adjacent rooms cut short as the ship's radio crackled to life, the sound filling them with equal degrees of shock and anxiety. Cautiously Jeckie turned around as a voice filled the room, half-expecting to see an angry ship captain standing behind them, gun in hand, wondering what a pair of Haoaerans was doing on his bridge. With relief they noticed it was just the radio, and nobody was there to be seen.

The voice that came from the speakers was of a language unknown to them, but it was clearly a structured sound intended to mean something. Jeckie listened intently to the incomprehensible sounds that came through, having never heard or even imagined a foreign language before. When the sounds ended, he hesitantly reached down and touched what he believed to be the 'transmit' button - though he could have been wrong.

"I am Tertiary Jeckie, Second company, Main Division, of the Haoaeran Militia," he squawked, trying to make the harsh sounds of their language sound as benign as he could. "Are you... on-board this ship...?"

The man nodded before looking back at his crewmen. "Okay, hold on!" He got up and stumbled back into the room. Two other men were there, one of them out cold and bleeding. The other one looking like the first, a little shaken. The two men laid 'Johnny' out flat and began getting to work. Johnny had taken some injures during a storm that had disabled the ship, the lack of food added to that made him very weak. Both men began covering the wounds with the bandages they'd aquired. "Sir, he's gonna need some water and food... or something..." The second man said to the first who nodded in agreement, "I know Robert... I know. Stay with him while I go look for some more food in the kitchin. We should have some of those intant meal things..." "Yes sir!" The man got up and walked away from the two, his body was running mainly on adrenaline and the excitement of being 'rescued.' He looked to the two other creatures, smiling and nodding to them before signalling he needed food (miming eating by pointing to his mouth as he held it open and chewing) and then pointing towards the door that would take him to the hallway that would eventually lead to the kitchen.

What came back was a quick (still in English), "The hell..."

And then the radio fell silent.

Eagle-Alpha, 270 kilometers North of NAO-54

The EWACS was moving towards the contact at its slow, subsonic pace. In the mean time, Nikolai talked with the aircrafts CO.

"Sir, I have heard a lot of different languages, and that language is not one I have ever heard before." He paused, "It actually sounded... a bit like a bird."

There was a moments silence, then Nikolai shook hid head, "Sir, base also contacted me, their sending a helicopter with a team of Tactical Commissars."

"Oh..." The CO said, which was a euphemism for an explicit curse word. Like most professional Red Tidean Officers, the CO feared the Intelligence Commissariat, Red Tides mix of a secret police and intelligence organisation.

"Our orders are to approach and circle the contact until the helicopter arrives." Nikolai continued.

"Very well then..." The CO said, "Pilot, take us down for a look."

Ten minutes later...

It was tough too get a big four engine aircraft down too 4,000 feet and hold it there, but Red Tidean pilots, like their surface counterparts, were hardy individuals. The plane roared over the aircraft carrier and then turned and began to circle. It's big RADAR dish continuing to rotate and look for any contacts.

The Haoaeran Standard, unsure of what the ape creature was asking him, simply stepped aside to allow him to pass by. His peculiar gesture of placing his hands near his open mouth made little sense to Kichik, although it suddenly dawned on him a few moments later that without a beak, these creatures would have to lift food to their mouths lest their flat faces receive generous smudges of food across their bland skin.

"You're just letting it leave?" Chikori squawked in astonishment.

"He's not going to leave the ship, Grade 2 Standard," Kichik shrugged, emphasising their rank difference as he grew tired of his colleague's insubordination. "He has no wings."

"How do you know it's a he?" Chikori asked. "Erm... sir."

"I think they're mammals," Kichik told him. "No mammary glands, look. Those ones have them, this one doesn't."

"Oh yeah..." Chikori said, gazing at them before his beady eyes returned to their angered state. "Anyway... we're supposed to contain any crew we find to keep the Tertiary secure from surprises, sir. 'He' could wander off and find an armoury or something!"

"They've already got guns, they could have used them by now," Kichik said. "I think they just need food."

With that Kickik reinforced his gesture by stepping further aside, pointing in the same direction the human did, and issuing him with an affirmative squawk.

***

"Weird," Jeckie said thoughtfully as the radio let out one last sound, before going dead.

"You must have scared them off, sir," Shipori said in jest.

Jeckie looked at the Militia soldier for a few moments before turning his headset radio on. "Home Nest this is boarding team, are you hearing us?"

"Boarding team, Home Nest hears all, go ahead," came a voice into his hears. Secondary Rackin, his direct superior, had taken over general control of this mission, and he was always a very hands-on officer. Jeckie could just imagine the displaced radio operator standing next to his original station, twiddling his claws as he watched his commander do his work for him.

"Home Nest, we have reached the bridge of the 'ship'," Jeckie told them. "We received communication through the ship's radio but were unable to communicate due to linguistic differences. Got any linguists you could send over?"

Being isolated, true translators weren't especially common in Haoaera - they had nothing to really translate. But a few historians made their living from translating old Sarnak ruins and even Ancient Haoaeran texts, and Jeckie thought it was their best shot. Haoaerans could learn languages quite quickly, if given the opportunity, or at least their ancestors did.

"Linguists? Uhh... that'll take some time, Tertiary," Rackin said. "We'll arrange something, I'll let you know."

"OK then, thank you sir, boarding team out."

"A linguist, sir?" Shipori asked with confusion.

"Hey, someone who translates old Sarnak has to be more experienced than everybody else," Jeckie shrugged. "It'll... what's that noise?"

Shipori pointed out of the window behind Jeckie, stepping forwards to take a closer look. Some kind of flying contraption was circling the boat, very slowly, with a whirling blade spinning so fast on the top that it looked solid. Presumably it was capable of hovering.

Both of the officers darted outside, flapping down onto a lower deck and shielding their eyes from the sun as they peered upwards at the machine. Jeckie wasn't sure whether to fly up there and take a closer look, or take a few pot-shots at it with his pistol. He decided quite quickly that either of those actions would probably end in feathers flying everywhere, so he did the opposite.

"Take cover! Back inside!" he shouted over the deafening noise of the helicopter. The two hopped back up to the bridge level and disappeared inside.

***

Meanwhile, back home, Secondary Rackin immediately put in the request for a linguist to be appropriated by the Militia with the government. A short while later, government notes were distributed to every university with a known translation experts serving there. They waited to see if anybody took the bait.

With that the man left the room. He went quickly through the cramped halls and after a few minutes, found himself in the kitchen. He went through multiple drawers and eventually found a load rations packs in the storage room. He only took a few of them and a knife before leaving the kitchen and heading back to his men. He came back in walking quickly with the rations packs under his arm and knife in other hand. He walked apst the bird-creatures and dumped them down in front of his men. "Okay, here we go, and I brought a knife to be sure we could open them." He said to Robert, Robert nodded. "These are the self-cooking ones... nice, at least we have something warm to eat." The man nodded before cutting a pack open, inside was a container of sweet and sour chicken, an apple, some water and two plates. One of the plates was made to hold the food, the other had a surface coated with chemicals that would heat up when coming into contact with water, this would be used to warm up the food. Robert took no time in setting it up, there was a little fizzing sound as the plate with chemicals heated up the plate wiht the food. "Smells decent enough." Said the other man, Robert shook his head, "Come on Mark, we'll be fine. We just need to get to the radio."
---------------------------
Meanwhile the two recon planes headed off to the aircraft carriers last known position. It would be about a two hour flight if the planes weren't slowed down by anything. Once they got in the area they could use the special little gadget they brought with them, when activated it would make the ship, assuming it was near enough to them, send an encrypted distress call only accessable by Greywatch recievers.

'Eagle-Alpha', 4,000 feet over the Carrier...

They had circled the ship for a good while, waiting for the helicopter too show. When it did, it circled the ship several times before settling down too land on the main flight deck.

TC-2B Heavy Transport Helicopter, Callsign: 'Greenback-Hotel'

"Alright..." Commissar Major Kirov Sergeyovich Tatarin said to his Platoon of Tactical Commissars, "Our primary mission is too salvage the ship for any usefull intelligence. So if you come across some documents, do not hesitate too call for assistance. Secondary objective is search and rescue, so if you come across a crew member, again, call for back-up. Got it?"

The Tactical Commissars, wearing the gear that made them look like American SWAT Officers(with the letters 'IC' painted on where 'SWAT' would go), nodded. All 49 men were armed with a sidearm and a M50 Submachine gun, Tatarin himself was armed with his sidearm and a M100 Assualt Rifle. There was a slight thump as the TC-2 touched down onto the flight deck, then the helicopters side doors slid open.

All 50 passengers piled out and the helicopter took off, heading back too base. Tatarin had heard that a Corvette was coming out here to take a look, but it would be awhile. He glanced around, noting the abandoned flight deck, then he looked up at the bridge.

"First stop! Bridge! MOVE!" He barked. The 50 man platoon began too make their way across the flight deck.

In the air above the abandoned carrier...

The Belkans had been watching the carrier from a safe distance for some time now, waiting for it to become legal international salvage, but now, as their prey looked as if it was falling to enemy hands, the task force dispatched two strike teams and a diplomat to claim the ship for themselves. Two helecopters took off from the task force and landed on the deck of the carrier, the forces disembarking as far away from the Red Tide men as they could manage, and headed towards them, weapons in a non threatening position.

Their feet tapping as they ran through the captain's office, a place that reeked of stale, rotten food, Jeckie and Shipori slammed a metal door shut behind them, tucked in their wings and dove underneath a desk together. Scrabbling around on the floor, they managed to turn themselves around so that they were facing the door, and pointed their sidearms at it nervously.

"What were those things sir?" Shipori asked in a hushed voice.

"I don't know, Standard," Jeckie shook his head. He fluffed up his feathers to hide a nervous shiver, rubbing his beak with his clawed hand. "They didn't look..."

There was a distant thumping sound as one of the alien helicopters touched down outside, which made them both smack their heads on the underside of the desk in shock simultaneously. They both lay motionless, their beady yellow eyes focussed fully on the door in front of them, for a few moments of deathly silence before Shipori spoke up.

"What was that noise?" he asked, forgoing the formalities of 'sir' in his apprehension.

"Your guess is about as educated as my guess, Standard," Jeckie whispered. He reached up carefully and tapped his radio headset with a single talon, holding the microphone as close to his beak as he could without accidentally biting it.

"Kichik, this is Tertiary Jeckie... are you two making noises down there?" he asked quietly.

"No sir," a crackling response came back to his earphones. "We're still down here with the survivors. We heard a bang too... thought it was something you were doing."

"It's not," Jeckie said. "There's some kind of... flying contraption hovering around outside."

"Does it have fixed metal wings sir?" Kichik asked him.

"No - it has some kind of windmill on the top," Jeckie said. "It must be the owners of the vessel come back to claim it. I think the bang might have been them, landing or something. Take cover somewhere, be careful, and wait for further orders."

"Yes sir," Kichik said, and Jeckie turned off the headset to prevent it making any further noises that might give them away.

"What are we going to do now, sir?" Shipori asked in a harsh whisper.

"Wait and see..." Jeckie said. "Try and sneak our way into the air without being caught."

***

Kichik flapped his wings in agitation and grabbed hold of Chikori's narrow shoulder to spin him around.

"We need to find cover," he said, glancing around at the surviving crew members. "There are more aliens on the boat. Tertiary says we are to hide and wait for orders."

"What about them?" Chikori asked, nodding at the humans behind them.

"We're going to hide in here," Kichik said flatly. "Shut the door."

"We're going to hide with them?" Chikori squawked, somewhat loudly. "What if they... shoot us, or eat us?"

"That's a possibility wherever we go for the moment, I suppose," Kickik shrugged. He placed his taloned fingers on the dog wheel and slowly pulled the door shut, closing them in the room with the survivors. "Help me shut this thing, would you?"

Chikori made a sound not entire dissimilar to a growl as he glanced at his superior, but eventually shook his head in dismay and placed his own hands on the door. Together, the two Haoaeran were able to pull the door shut and close the wheel.

"Is this thing bullet proof?" Chikori asked, dusting his feathers down.

"It is against our bullets I think," Kichik said. "Those aliens could use those laser beams from space fiction, for all we know."

"Great!" Chikori said sarcastically. "That's just great! Sir!"

***

Back home, one linguist had picked up on one of the bulletin notices and contacted the government. Tykori, a professor of Sarnak archaeology, found himself promptly picked up by several Standards from the Militia and escorted to one of their beach ports. After being given a very short briefing and asked to sign a secrecy document, he was hurried onto what appeared to be a speedboat along with two Standards and they were whisked away across the salty waves towards the alien ship.