NationStates Jolt Archive

Aceria...

The Empress was considered the most attractive female in the entire Federation, but she had refused suitor after suitor, instead working on official business. Now she was the most powerful person in the entire Acerian Federation. Her predecessor, Emperor Pion had for five decades, expanded the Federation to its all time height of dominating thirty different systems. There were hundreds of planets in these systems, though only a few were habitable. Acerian engineers had set to work terraforming every inhabitable planet in the Federation. The work was still ongoing. Thirty different systems lingered in the Empress's mind as she was escorted to the Council of Lords. There was now an upcoming important session that would decide the Federation's future.

Council of Lords Building

"This Council is now in session, everyone please be seated." said the Speaker of the Council Han Hawks. Han Hawks began reviewing the day's agenda. The appearance of pirates in the Netian system and the completion of the terraforming of a planet called Sideria. Then after a hour of approving budget proposals and the Navy's request for twelve more frigates,came the dramatic proposal from the Empress.

"It has come to my attention that Trader ships have reported other civilizations nearby. Its apparent that we are not alone in this Universe. Therefore, my proposal is that we make contact with these civilizations. It would benefit the people of the Federation greatly and this is the chance toi find allies in this lonely universe." she said before the Lords.

Lord Remeria and five lords protested this. "Your Majesty. This is ridiculous. There is not benefit to the people of Aceria if we let foreign traders over run our markets." A naval lord completely support the proposal. "It will benefit the navy greatly to have allies. Our ships will benefit greatly from this." The naval lords outnumbered Remeria three to one. Speaker Hawks therefore put it to vote, and it was passed 25-5. The Empress, who got what she wanted, walked off with her four Dark Guards following her. There was plenty of work to do.

Fifty standard hours later....

"Captain on deck." said Lieutenant Rams.

"At ease." said Captain Sasha looking at the computer reports. "Any new orders come today."

"A defense ministry official stopped by captain." said Rams uneasily."He said that there'll be new orders coming."

"You mean this?" asked Sasha, looking at the order the computer had received.

"Yes Captain."

"The Defense Ministry is hereby ordering the battleship Pioneer and the frigate Pulse to proceed to System Eight and from there, make contact with other civilizations." said Sasha, reading the order. What a break! To be in command of the first ship contacting aliens. System Eight was one of the systems suspected to either hold aliens or at least make contact from there. Her crew and herself were bored from orbiting for weeks around the homeworld. Now, they were to contact aliens.

"Accelerate the engines Lieutenant. We're going for a ride."

"Yes sir."

System Eight

The journey seemed short and the possibility of meeting an alien ship got the crew more and more excited as the ship neared its designated location. They were orbiting a moon that had an abandoned trade post that was destroyed by mysterious forces decades ago. Some of the crew wondered who was out there. What had destroyed the trade post. Sasha couldn't think of that now, she had a duty to do.

"Lieutenant, you may began contact now."

The Lieutenant nodded and click to launch the broadcasting message in all languages that were known. The Pioneer and the Pulse waited quietly.

OOC: Telegram me for entry. If you are wondering what happened to my previous FT nation, the Galactic Empire of Greal, it got occupied.

In this very system, there was a ship, cloaked against threats. A small ship, very small, little more than a capsule with enough room for four or five people. However, there were not that many people on this particular vessel, for it was nothing more than a little small Scout Ship. It bore the symbol and a serial number of the Alversian People's Republic, a people a long distance from here but with a thirst for exploring the Universe. To explore the Universe, they had sent out these Scout Ships, small and somewhat cramped but with weapons, shields, transwarp drives and sensors to complete the exploration of those areas where no Alversian had ever been. This was one of them.

On board, there was a small cockpit, an engine room and a dormitory. All were small, the cockpit contained only three seats, being surrounded on three sides by consoles telling of anything from sensors readings to plasma transfer rates to tactical data. Above these consoles was the window, out of which now showed two warships of an unknown class or type. The Seat was empty yet the lights were on. The buttons were being pressed and the ship was manouvering to the new arrivals yet there was no one present. The Ship's only crewman lay in the back of the ship, in the Sleeping section, curled up so he could sleep relatively comfortably in one of the ship's few beds.

However, in a flash, the front seat was no longer occupied. In a milisecond, there was a woman sitting there. She was strange looking, in that she seemed to be made up entirely of blue energy. Her skin was blue, her clothes were blue and even her hair was blue. She was cute, with a small button nose, thin and slender with blue eyes and hair tied in a pony tail. She crossed her legs in the seat, looking comfortable regardless of the stiff seat. She did not peer at the controls but she was looking at the ships themselves with interest. Her lips moved as if talking to herself, then she vanished again.

She reappeared in the Sleeping Area next to the sleeping Alversian with her hand. She touched him delicately in the shoulder have gave a slight nudge to try and wake him. He groaned and looked up at her, not at all surprised to see the slight blue figure of the Alversian female over him, staring at him innocently. He sighed and rolled over, preparing to get up, nodding to signal that he had understood her intention. He had told her not to wake him unless it was urgent. He had gone to bed without much faith, knowing that she would wake him at the smallest incident. He did like her as a Friend but she was still learning on how to deal with the world. She could control the ship in an instant but if she was confronted by a minor Ion storm she panicked. She was cute.

Yawning, the Alversian, yet unnamed, emerged in the cockpit, looking dissheveilled after his quick and recent awakening. However, his yawning was rapidly stiffled as he saw what she had awoken him for. It was something interesting after all.

He sat down in the Pilot's seat and sighed, looking at the ships. Without a word he looked at the AI and nodded in approval at her decision. She returned with a beaming grin, pleased that he had praised her and that she had done something right. She slipped into the seat beside him as a message was sent to the ships on all frequencies, the small ship emerging from it's cloak as it did so to become visible for the first time.

To Unknown Vessels,

This is the Alversian Scout Ship Moses. We are wondering what you are you doing in this sector? Our Database shows this area to be unoccupied

He would wait and see what they said in their response before he opened diplomatic relations. After all, if they were a Xenophobic Empire, then he had best be careful.

The modestly-equipped scout (http://premium1.uploadit.org/MaxOutrider/ShipImages/Marauder-Corvette.jpg) glided though the system at the safe range outside the scanning range of any of the present ships, the computer onboard guiding the vessel and ensuring everything was functioning as it should. With the war on the Xiscapian Imperial Navy could not afford whole fleets to seek out new contacts, and this had long since been considered impractical anyway. However, in this case, unlike many such Twilight class craft, the operative aboard was organic, an actual kitsune rather than the androids which were favored by the Exploration arm of the XIN.

Scanning...
Alert.
Three vessels detected.
Query: Origin, type, intentions?


Designate Ship One:
Origin: Alversian
Type: Z-38 Long-range scout
Intentions: Seek out new races, make contact.


Designate Ship Two:
Origin: Unknown
Type: Possible Battleship class
Intentions: Unknown


Designate Ship Three:
Origin: Unknown, possible identical to Ship Two
Type: Possible Frigate class
Intentions: Unknown


Status: 100% Operational
Bio Signs: Nominal
Energy store: 92%
Query: Uncloak?
Await further developments...

There was a pulse, a maddening conflagration, as the ship slid free from hyperspace, re-establishing itself in real-space, double-checking location and crew compliment, ensuring that everything had went smoothly and continue to run as such, all the while holding multiple conversations. The shipbrain of the DEV If At First You Don't Succeed, You're Probably Biological cast a lazy glance around the system, registering with bored amusement that there were a number of ship signals, probably corresponding to whoever had sent out their little message of contact.

It let its sensors bombard the area for a few ponderous seconds, before moving the vessel into a more comfortable position, opening every channel available to it, and broadcasting to the surrounding area.

Hello there one and all, this is the shipbrain of the Myenyan DEV If At First You Don't Succeed, You're Probably Biological. We've come in peace to investigate the message sent out by...Well, whoever it is lives here, and to generally have a nosey.

Introductions would be appreciated. We've shown you ours, and now we'd like some reciprocation.

System Eight

"Captain, the computer reports three other ships nearby in the system." said Lieutenant Rames.

"Alright, are all three of from the same race?" asked Sasha.

"No exactly, they're sending messages now thats indicates there are at least two civilizations being presented here, the third ship according to the scans doesn't seem to be sending us any messages." said Rames.

"What civilizations do these ships say they are from?"

"One of the ships are called Alversian, the other is called Myenyan. They are requesting who we are."

"Fine, send out a response. The Acerian Federation has indeed found civilization."

"This is the Acerian ship, the Pioneer. We' come from a civilization called the Acerian Federation."

"Well?" The Alversian Captain asked, or at least he was the Captain of this vessel, for he was the only one on it. By default then, that made him Captain, even if he didn't have the rank itself. And it turns out that he didn't.

His name was Aaron Jones, Commander Aaron Jones of the Alversian People's Navy, specifically attached to the Deep Space Fleet of the Alversian People's Navy. To many, it just sounded like a fleet name but it was so much more than that. They were the Pioneers, the people out along the very frontiers of Alversian knowledge, to quote a well known 'television' show (whatever that is) "To explore strange new worlds and to seek out new life and new civilisations". That was their goal in life. To discover things that had not yet been discovered. This was one such event. There was no mention in the Alversian databases of an Acerian Federation at any point. Not even when one went back as far as recorded history. That meant just one thing, they were a new species to the Alversian People's Republic and Commander Jones had another pip on his shoulder.

Jone's career had not been all that distinguished nor unique amongst the ranks of the APN but he had served in many of her recent conflicts and, as a result, had seen himself being promoted to heights he would never have thought possible. He had once been a simple Rating, working at the bottom of the ladder, like the majority of the APN's combat personnel. It was not a bad existance, far from it, but he had always wanted more than that. He had always wanted to be a command of some kind, a Destroyer, or a Cruiser, his dream was always a Dreadnought, like so many Alversians. To captain one of the goliaths that made up the APN would have been a dream come true. Instead, he had a scout ship. Not a bad compromise, but still a scout ship. At least he could be his own person here.

Jones was not an unattractive man. He was an Alversian, so he had the average features of that race. He was tall, about 6'8'', yet, despite this, he was light, lighter than one would normally expect someone of this height to be. He had lightly toned skin, potmarked with an occasional scar to signal where he had been in action, while his brown hair was cut short to avoid getting in his eyes, or becoming greasy or getting stuck in equipment. That would have been a nightmare. His blue eyes were focused on the readings coming back from the vessel and he was satisfied with them. This race was not hostile. Certainly not at the moment anyway. Elsewhere he could see the Myenyan DEV. He was fine with that, the Myenyans had been in contact with Alversians before, albeit not at a State-level, as the Myenyans drifted where they wanted in their large vessels, safely monitored and protected by the Ship's inbuilt AI. He had his own AI, although not quite as advanced.

Her name was LA-2203, or Ella as she preferred to be called and her correct designation was only ever referenced to in official documents, where even her chosen name could be used. She was like most Alversian AI, able to intergrate herself with the ship in a nano-second and take over all critical functions, to make herself a part of the vessel and improve it's effeciency beyond compare. Despite this extensive use, most Alversian Scientists programmed their AI's with precognitive matrixes, giving their creations a desire to learn about the world and people around them. This gave them a child-like curiousity and innocence. They were far from streetwise, yet they tried to please any and all who they encountered and were not immune from the pleasure of recieving a compliment every now and then to show that they were not taken for granted.

A message was sent from the cockpit of the Moses, friendlier this time, now that the initial acid test had been done with.

We are here on a mission of exploration and discovery. We were wondering if it would be possible to open diplomatic relations with your Federation and perhaps discuss ways of benefitting both our nations?

With a ripple in space, followed by a tear, the fabric of Realspace was torn open by the G.L.T. Peddler, a Merchant-Class Commercial Cruiser (http://www.ravestats.com/public/fen/minmatar-mastodon-1.jpg). Emerging from the foggy white environs of the otherdimensional Slipspace, it slid into reality silently. It was followed by a twin guard of Demon-Class Frigates (http://img19.picoodle.com/img/img19/3/12/21/f_DemonBattlem_eb69f8b.jpg), because only a fool would make interstellar contact (however peaceful it was supposed to be) without any military support at all.

On-board the Peddler was the Governor of the 34th Tigerian Province, and an avid businessman who had built up his immense wealth from nothing. Of average height and with some paunch on his figure, the middle-aged entrepreneur had leaped at the opportunity presented by this broadcast; interstellar trade was no small commodity in the galaxy. The man scratched his thin - but not balding - hair thoughtfully.

"Resource scans?" he asked curiously.

"That moon is filled with goodies," one of the crewmen said -- part of the all-civilian crew of the Peddler. Lieutenant-Retired Brian Nugent was one of the Governor's oldest friends, honorable discharged after winning an Honor of the Great Lord medal -- the source of which remained unspoken, and which the Governor understood. The former naval officer continued. "Structure indicates the foundations of buildings that are long-gone -- maybe a colony or trading post, one."

"Trading post, more likely," the Governor responded. "And perfect wheat for the harvest. Open all channels."

When the Lieutenant had done this, the official spoke again, this message being broadcast to all ships in the vicinity. "Greetings and salutations! This is the Great Lord Tiger's Peddler speaking. On behalf of the Immortal Lands of the Great Lord Tiger, hereafter referred to as Imglot for all interested parties, I am Amos Lonkane, Governor of the 34th Province of Tigeria, home planet of Imglot. In the interests of interstellar prosperity, we are here to open trade talks between our nations, should it be favorable to both parties. We await your reply, our gracious hosts!"

Uncharted Space...

"Lock down sector 37!" a voice shouted across the control room as another torpedo struck the PFS Donau, a Venator Class Star Destroyer of the Federal Navy. The ship suddered with the impact, and sparks flew from a now-exposed fuse box on the far wall

"What's the damage status?!" shouted the Captain, picking himself up as he came through the door

"We have fires and breaches on several decks, coolant system has been ruptured and the reactor may be leaking. All offensive batteries are out of power and defensive weapons are failing fast!" the Crew Aide called back to him "And our last defence fighter just went down!"

"Damnit!" shouted the Captain as a small fighter flew straight at the bridge, peppering the forward observation window with laser fire

"What do we do, sir?" the Aide shouted to him

"Shut down all non-essential systems. Re-route all remaining power to the Slip-Drive and prepare to engage" he called back, flicking switches at the pilots terminal as he pushed the dead pilot out of the seat

"Sir, to engage the Slip-Drive we need to shut down the defensive weapons now!"

"Then DO IT!" he roared back, hurridly typing co-ordinates. The men remaining in the Control Room were then knocked off their feet as another torpedo hit its mark. As they regained their footing, the Aide called out

"Sir, we're showing critical power levels. We have to jump now!"

The Captain looked up at him, then punched the button

The space around the ship began to distort, and then it vanished.

System Eight...

The Donau burst through real-space and came to a halt. It looked a mess. Torpedoes had torn several holes in the side of the large ship, smoke from several fires billowed through the bloody corridors and the core reactor was now leaking dangerous fluid into areas of the ship it was not supposed to be

"Damage report?" the Captain asked, looking up at the Aides who were left in the Control Room

"Damage is critical on all levels, but she'll hold together" he replied "Our scanners are damaged, as are our long-range communications, but I think I see friendly vessels in the area; Xiscapian, Alversian, IMGLOT, and two other unknown vessels"

"I'll try and send out a distress signal" the Captain told them, pressing a button down on the console

"This is...tain Fawkes...PFS Donau...Critcal...eed Assistance...AP"

The scout decided it was time to wake it's organic cargo, any flight or combat could be taken over as was needed by the operative and he would need to be awake and alert for contact.
Biological designate Unit 44982 Commander Dram is in fully functional condition. Deactivating statis field now...
Inside the somewhat cramped quarters of the craft tubes receded from a humanoid figure in an armored suit (http://www.techshout.com/images/dead-space-ss.jpg) who stood propped up on force field bed. Even from without of the form it was evident that the being was not human: The shape was all wrong, strangely warped in some areas, parts where nothing should be, such as the two vertically-placed triangular ears on top of the head or the long, curved segment coming out of the rear that could only indicate a tail. The visor receded from the face, exposing a animal visage: A silver muzzle ending in a delicate snout and black, canine nose, two yellow eyes blinking dully, gummed with sleep.
"Whassat?"
"Commander," came the mechanical voice, "we have arrived in an inhabited system."

Commander Dram stepped off his resting place, a holographic system map already appearing before him. His vulpine eyes scanned it quickly, the suspected classes and operators of all ships arrayed before him, the messages from each displayed in a datalog as they had come. Good...everyone I'm familiar with, for once. Except these 'Acerian Federation' types, but they'll have to wait, that Ustioi ship looks to be in trouble..
"Broadcast the following, all bands, and make for the Ustioi vessel," he ordered the computer.
"As you wish, Commander."

Greetings to assorted races and nations: This is a Commander Dram of a scout from the Kitsune Empire of Xiscapia, responding to a message that was traced from this location. I come in peace to all and illwill towards none. Fortunately I am in a position to provide some small assistance to the damaged ship which has just appeared in-system, but afterwards I would be delighted to attend a diplomatic meeting on one of the larger ships with any and all interested parties.

The scout fired her thrusters and in no time she was nearing the PFS Donau, alert in case the vessel decided to explode, or had been boarded by an enemy who might decide an Xiscapian scout would be a good target for captured guns. A tentative message was put out even as the scout pulled into the nearest open hanger:

This is an Xiscapian Scout piloted by Commander Dram, here to offer any assistance I can. What's your status?

System Eight

(Computer log)

Scanner reports show two more unidentified ships appearing in the system. One of the ships appears to be damaged by weapons. Messages being received. First one from the Alversian ship reads:

We are here on a mission of exploration and discovery. We were wondering if it would be possible to open diplomatic relations with your Federation and perhaps discuss ways of benefiting both our nations?"

Second message received and being scanned. The message appears to come from a civilization called Immortal Lands of the Great Lord Tiger. Message reads:

"Greetings and salutations! This is the Great Lord Tiger's Peddler speaking. On behalf of the Immortal Lands of the Great Lord Tiger, hereafter referred to as Imglot for all interested parties, I am Amos Lonkane, Governor of the 34th Province of Tigeria, home planet of Imglot. In the interests of interstellar prosperity, we are here to open trade talks between our nations, should it be favorable to both parties. We await your reply, our gracious hosts!"

Third message received and being scanned. Labeled as distress. Following message shows no indication of what civilization it may have come from. Message reads:

"This is...tain Fawkes...PFS Donau...Critcal...eed Assistance...AP"

Fourth message received and being scanned. The message comes from a ship that claims to be a civilization called Kitsune Empire of Xiscapia. Message reads:

"Greetings to assorted races and nations: This is a Commander Dram of a scout from the Kitsune Empire of Xiscapia, responding to a message that was traced from this location. I come in peace to all and illwill towards none. Fortunately I am in a position to provide some small assistance to the damaged ship which has just appeared in-system, but afterwards I would be delighted to attend a diplomatic meeting on one of the larger ships with any and all interested parties."

"Captain, the computer reports four messages being sent from four different ships. Two of the messages came from two new ships that have appeared. The computers reports that one of the ships are damaged and are in need of help."

"Could it be a trap of some sort?" asked Sasha thinking. There were pirates that often pretended they were damaged ships and fooled merchant captains into "rescuing" the pirates.

"Ship appears to be heavily damaged. And one of the ships, from a nation called Xiscapia is already offering help." said Rames.

"Alright, order the Pulse to offer any assistance with the damaged ships. I'll deal with the other ships that was awaiting our response." said the Captain walking over to the computer and beginning to dictate a message. Her counterpart on the Pulse would also send a message to the damaged ship.

"To all interested parties seeking to establish diplomatic relations or trade relations with the Acerian Federation, please send a representative to our largest ship that is present."

The captain of the Pulse sent a message to the damaged ship asking what kind of assistance it needed.

The two messages came through rather garbled, as the communications systems were still damaged. After a few minutes repairs though, they were able to hear both messages clearly

"Sir, Xiscapian vessel is offering support. One of the Unknown vessels is requesting what assistance we need"

Captain Fawkes pressed the communications button on the console again, and addressed the Unknown vessel and the Xiscapian Vessel.

"This is Captain Owyn Fawkes of Federal Navy ship Donau. We need any repair crews you can spare. We've lost life support to several decks, and sensors indicate we have a reactor leak. We are down on power and need assistance, over"

The two messages came through rather garbled, as the communications systems were still damaged. After a few minutes repairs though, they were able to hear both messages clearly

"Sir, Xiscapian vessel is offering support. One of the Unknown vessels is requesting what assistance we need"

Captain Fawkes pressed the communications button on the console again, and addressed the Unknown vessel

"This is Captain Owyn Fawkes of Federal Navy ship Donau. We need any repair crews you can spare. We've lost life support to several decks, and sensors indicate we have a reactor leak. We are down on power and need assistance, over"
OOC: But the same message didn't go to me?

OOC: But the same message didn't go to me?

OOC: Oh sorry, yes I meant to put your name in there.

"We are receiving a return message from the vessels," Ella reported, not even looking at the panels as she sat in the cockpit with Jones. He started at the statement, not expecting it from the normally quiet AI, who preferred only to speak when she had to. This was not such a moment, but she was exceptionally good at what she did and Jones did not hesitate to leave the ship in her command for days, if not weeks at a time, while he studied samples or brushed up on his Alumina. Yes, Jones was going to try and be the first to learn the language of Alversia's oldest Ally. A difficult language to learn but one he was keen in doing so.

Jones read the message and sighed, looking over at the AI, who was staring at him in that cute, innocent way she had, looking him over with her blue eyes,
"Seems I'm going on a little trip," Jones smiled at her, she smiled back uncertainly, still not quite understanding the whole range of emotions and expressions that were associated with sociality.

A moment later, another message was sent to the biggest Federation Ship,
"I shall represent the Alversian People's Republic. Can you send co-ordinates for a beaming."

We offer greetings to all, known and unknownm, from the Myenyan Collective. We are a group of loosely affiliated group of ships and habitats, those who would explore and understand the greater galaxy, the greater universe that beckons those such as us.

We stand at a monumental juncture amongst our kind, to interact with some we understand and others we do not, a group of interesting and engaging species with whom we wish nothing more than to increase our understanding and interaction with.

We will help those present in any way we can, and provide positive reinforcement in any other matters that present themselves, this is sworn in the name of the Myenyan Collective.

We avidly await your responses.

"This is...tain Fawkes...PFS Donau...Critcal...eed Assistance...AP"

"What's this, then?" Governor Lonkane said carefully. "A ship in distress? What do we do?" The last was aimed at Lieutenant Nugent. "Do we help? Or..."

"We do nothing, Amos," the officer said. "The Mephistopheles handles that." Typing out a message, he sent it to the named Demon-Class Frigate. Picking up his headset, he punched some buttons. "Ustian, by the looks of it -- a new interstellar nation," he said in an aside to the Governor, before opening the channel. "Ustian ship, this is Lieutenant Nugent of the Immortal Lands of the Great Lord Tiger. En route is one of our Frigates, the G.L.T. Mephistopheles. It will any assistance to you that it can."

Just as he finished that, another message came through.

To all interested parties seeking to establish diplomatic relations or trade relations with the Acerian Federation, please send a representative to our largest ship that is present.

"From the original contact ships, sir," one of the civilian crew said to the Governor. He nodded.

"I'll take a shuttle there. Lieutenant, get a guard of... oh, a half-dozen Champions."

"Right away, sir," Nugent said, standing and saluting. He hurried off, not running but at something more than an amble, going to find a detachment of the armored soldiers.

To the ship, Lonkane sent the response, "Acerian Federation, this is Governor Lonkane of Imglot, again. We will launch a shuttle and be on our way in about two standard minutes. We will contact you when we require docking and whatnot." The Governor was vague on how all that worked, but it wasn't his job to know.

"This is Captain Owyn Fawkes of Federal Navy ship Donau. We need any repair crews you can spare. We've lost life support to several decks, and sensors indicate we have a reactor leak. We are down on power and need assistance, over."

Dram felt relieved as he pulled into the hanger bay: If the communications were still online, the Captain was still alive, conscious and competent and able to send messages they had at least a chance of survival. Nevertheless the situation sounded quite dire: Several of the decks of the ship had been breached (or that was what he suspected, if the loss of life support entailed the same on this vessel as it did on Xiscapian ones), and a reactor leak, be it from a nuclear, anti-matter or virtually any other power source was a delicate, potentially deadly problem.

Roger that Captain Fawkes, I'm landing in one of your port hanger bays now. I doubt I have the equipment to repair a reactor leak, but I might be able to seal it, and I could certainly enter an area without functional life support and rescue any trapped crew or remove sensitive or vital equipment. I can also provide first-aide and repair most minor systems, or major ones with minimal damage. Just tell me where you need me.

"This is Captain Owyn Fawkes of Federal Navy ship Donau. We need any repair crews you can spare. We've lost life support to several decks, and sensors indicate we have a reactor leak. We are down on power and need assistance, over"

"Send a repair crew by shuttle." said the captain of the frigate."and ask them how they sustained this damage."

--------------------------------------------------------------------

"I shall represent the Alversian People's Republic. Can you send co-ordinates for a beaming."

"Send the coordinates, I suppose they have to be very precise about these things, otherwise they might beam him into that star." said Sasha.

We offer greetings to all, known and unknownm, from the Myenyan Collective. We are a group of loosely affiliated group of ships and habitats, those who would explore and understand the greater galaxy, the greater universe that beckons those such as us.

We stand at a monumental juncture amongst our kind, to interact with some we understand and others we do not, a group of interesting and engaging species with whom we wish nothing more than to increase our understanding and interaction with.

We will help those present in any way we can, and provide positive reinforcement in any other matters that present themselves, this is sworn in the name of the Myenyan Collective.

We avidly await your responses.

"Inform them that they are allowed to send a delegate onto this ship if needed. I'm sure the computer can think of some response."

"Acerian Federation, this is Governor Lonkane of Imglot, again. We will launch a shuttle and be on our way in about two standard minutes. We will contact you when we require docking and whatnot."

"They're send a shuttle here?" asked Rames

"Yes it seems so. Prepare the hangers. I will go meet these people myself."

"Well?"

"They have given us the co-ordinates for beaming."

Ella stated calmly, sitting in one of the chair's still, scanning thousands of terrabytes worth of information every nano-second, using her highly developed and expensive matrixes to scan and analyse the information that was running through every single system of the small scout ship. She could make the ship do anything she desired. At the moment, she would make the ship her own, to command it while her Organic Counter-part beamed to the ship of the Arceans, to open diplomatic relations to them. Ella felt, in truth, a little bit nervous.

"I'll man the ship" She stated honestly, looking at him with her wide eyes, as if uncertain if she had said the right thing. He merely gave her a nod.

"See you in a moment," Jones smiled and, with that, he was gone.

In a flash, he was aboard the Arcean Battleship, looking from side to side curiously, waiting for someone to greet or even to tell him where to go.

Aboard a small Andromeda-Class shuttle (http://howtobedolce.files.wordpress.com/2006/12/spacemarines_485.jpg), the Governor watched the displays that the pilot played with uncomprehendingly. Behind him were a full 6 Champions (http://img33.picoodle.com/img/img33/3/9/28/f_Championm_3f58035.jpg), silent but for occasional whirs from their mechanical equipment. Lonkane watched as the copilot raised the Acerians on the transmission system.

"This is the Imglotian shuttle Peddler-Sub-1," she said, naming the shuttle according to the typical style of 'hostship-sub-number'. "We are hereby requesting permission and guidance for boarding."

Two Dark Guards were standing there staring at Jones for a moment, then one of them indicated to Jones to head into the room down the hall. The Guards were heavily armored and were holding blaster rifles.

The computer answered the shuttle's call and began guiding it to land onto the hangers.