Babylonia: First Contact IC

[Catharyn]

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Stage One - Contact

Artur Vasilyev stood on an observation deck of the liner High Society. The room was on emergency lighting, but the man's face was lit up by the light reflected from the planet below. It was startlingly clear, with no cloud cover. The desert that covered most of the equatorial landmass shone fiercely with a yellow white light. Small ovals of dark water were present closer to the north-south regions, where tundra and grassland thrived. Huge mountains and mysterious valleys stuck out of the flat earth like heartbeats on an ECG monitor. The ship they had escaped in was new, and meant to accommodate seven thousand rich holiday-makers around the Orion arm. It hadn't even completed its maiden voyage before being commandeered, crammed with twenty thousand refugees and rushed into a convoy out of the sector.

The observation deck itself, spacious enough to allow for the bands and ceremonies that would normally be performing, was full to bursting with displaced civilians. Temporary living spaces, made from empty cargo crates with fabric doors, sat at haphazard angles to each other. Dirty people in ruined clothes hung around in groups, eating emergency rations and gambling. Crew members in black and grey jumpsuits moved urgently through the crowds, taking censuses on holopads. Out of the observation window, the frigate Petrarch hove into view. It's scarred hull had been shored up by energy barriers. Dozens of tiny maintenance vehicles buzzed around its exterior, sparks flying from their extraneous welding tools.

Artur scratched his stubble, things had been crazy recently. The Idirans had been relentless, only through clever ruses and a fair bit of luck had they plotted a successful slipspace jump in time to escape the carnage of their home system. "Captain." A voice called from behind him, Artur turned. His XO, Estelle, stood to attention next to a vacant bench and a potted tree. “What is it, ensign?” He asked, walking to her. “The briefing has been pushed forward, its in fifteen minutes.” She said, turning to walk beside Artur as he made his way back toward a transit pod. “Why so soon?” Artur asked, looking at his subordinate whilst weaving in between the thrumming masses. Hundreds of refugees swamped the information bureaus, he could hear cries clamouring to know where they were and where they were going.“We were contacted by something down on the surface, turned out to be an indigenous civilization. Apparently they can understand us but we have no idea what they're on about ourselves. Conference room A99.” she reported knowingly, the captain relayed this into an intercom as they reached the deck's transit terminal. “How odd.”

[Forseti]

Fredrik moved through the corridor filling crowd, all of them looking up towards a holomonitor with information feeds and statistics flanking footage of the planet. Fredrik could hear people talking and mumbling their opinion on the situation with varying degrees of optimism. A pair of the ships crew walked down the corridor drawing people away from the monitor to take the census, the crew of the High society had tried to rope him into heading to the infirmary after Fredrik told them his profession, though he was unwilling to the idea of being drafted. With the crowd loosening their thick wall around the monitor, Fredrik managed to get close enough to see the images in more detail. " What do you think doctor?" said a man whom Fredrik barely recognised as the man who had been behind him in line for the census. " Well... It's not the first time humans have lived in a desert and there doesn't seem to be any Idrians there" Fredrik replied, the footage on the holomonitor panned across the surface of the world.

Among the talk and shouts of the census takers, Fredrik heard someone calling his surname, he turned away from the monitor to look for its source. " Is there a Dr Corbett here?" Shouted a man towards the back of the crowd, Fredrik waved his hand above the heads of the people around him, the man waited for him as Fredrik tried to push his way from the monitor. " Doctor Corbett, Red Cross right?" asked the man as Fredrik had worked his way out. " Yes that's me, but please call me Fredrik" he answered, shaking the man's hand as it was extended to him. " My name is Doug Powell, I'm with the Red Cross too, a few of us are having an intercom meeting with others across the fleet, were planning a field hospital on the surface and were trying to get as many members as we can together to help run it when we get down there" said the man, Fredrik grinned at the idea of some organisation by some like minded people. " Where is the intercom on this ship Doug" asked Fredrik, Doug pulled out a card from his jacket's pocket. " Meet us at the engineering deck, starboard supply room at this time, well put the cross on the door I case your not sure, I gotta go up and check further up the ship now but I'll see you there Doctor Corbett" Doug grinned as he handed the card to Fredrik and in a rush pushed his way further down the corridor, leaving Fredrik behind in the crowded corridor.

[Torack]

Daren was in the crew cafeteria with a group of guys who were in his squadron talking about nothing of real importance, mostly joking around and making fun. Ever since they've gotten onto the ship they've been "grounded" and Daren was dying to get back into those amazing ships again. Their performance, speed, agility, fire power, if it were true that humans truly loved machines, Daren loved that fighter plane. Even gave it a name. Darcy. And he was sure the rest of the guys missed the cockpit, the suffocating smell of testosterone, and the rush from an aerial fight. He certainly did.

As his mind was wondering on and on about the gaping space in space and how he'd love nothing more than to be back flying Darcy, the captain's voice echoed through the intercom. He listened in as the information relayed the briefing was to be held earlier than expected. Interesting, thought Daren as he stood from the bench and nodded to the guys as he made his way to the transit terminal a few yards left of the cafeteria entrance.

[Siphran]

Emergency lighting had been necessary throughout the whole trip, actually since their last combat maneuvers before jumping. It had taken almost all of their remaining power to even make it this far, but here they were. The crew was exhausted, irate, and most of all, scared. It had been a challenge to keep them going the past ten days, any repairs that could be done, had been done the first four days, everything else necessitated a trip outside, which was impossible during a jump.

Tess sat at his command chair, situated on a slightly elevated platform in the middle of the bridge. It wasn't really his, and he told himself that he was just borrowing it, but Commander Del was in no condition to command, currently on ice until they could get him adequate medical attention. The bridge had been quiet, leading to the exit from slipspace, but as the normal noise of operating engines again resumed, and stars reappeared, the bridge exploded into fast paced action, bordering chaos. Reports came in from all stations, ringing the edges of the bridge, the space behind, and everything inbetween. "Venting and cycling coolant." "Pings received, fleetcom is online." "Fleet formation is all over the place, bringing us out of entry vector." "Weapon status is operational, barely." "Engineering reports hull structure to be holding."

He took in all the information, gazing out at the planet below, as well as the occasional telltale shine; other ships of the fleet. "Bring us within transport range of High Society, start repairs on the thrusters and exhausts, bring weapon stations to standby, and prep Commander Del for transport." A chorus of nods and confirmations met his ears as he checked his roster. He had just enough crew to make it work, which was under the recommended minimum for actually running the frigate. Most had no combat experience save for their last hurrah before departing Sol, and they were all running on empty.

Tess knew what fatigue could do to a crew, so he had made sure his current bridge crew got two cycles of rest before calling them to duty. Everything had to be perfect and ready for anything when they slipped back into reality. Thankfully, his sensors had picked up nothing remotely threatening so far, nothing to hammer the already decimated fleet. Not that he was focusing on anything down below. His one assigned task, and focus, was to keep an eye out for any spaceborne threats, and lead the preemptive engagement if necessary. Considering that he was one of the few purpose built military vessels here, and that his ship was in relatively good condition, it was a good assignment. Though that was like comparing whether an arrow or a bow was more suitable for chopping down a tree, either were ill equipped for the job.

"Reactor cycled, heating back up to 80%"
And let there be light.

[Grif of Hearts]

“The meeting has been pushed forwards. It’s in fifteen minutes.”

Captain Artur Vasilyev continued to walk, his XO following beside him, but a blank expression was sprawled across his face. It was a sign of confusion. He was silent for a moment, before finally questioning. The meeting had previously been scheduled to happen in just over an hour, but the change was sudden and bizarre.

“We were contacted by something on the surface. As it turns out, it’s an indigenous civilisation. Apparently they can understand us but we have no idea what they’re on about ourselves. Obviously we don’t know much about them, but it’s more than a curiousity.” Estelle looked down briefly, raising her arm and glancing at the tactical holopad that was strapped around her wrist. “Conference room A99. This way.”

Estelle Kerrigan followed her superior through the many hallways of the ship, weaving in and out of small groups of crew members and passengers and trying her best not to step on anything. It was part of a small fleet, composed of a dozen different ships that looked as if they were held together with tape and bubble gum. They were cruise liners, space-buses and scouting vessels, certainly not designed for travel into deep space. They hadn’t access to any superior ships though. They were on the run. Each space cruiser was filled with as many passengers as they could carry, sleeping bags and cargo containers stored in any place that could hold them. As the ship’s XO, the executive officer, it was often Estelle’s job to keep everyone organised and productive. Paper work was done by her, as was resource management and information gathering. She frequently joked that she did all of the hard work on board the ship while Captain Vasilyev stood around and looked pretty.

At least they both stuck to what they were good at.

The ship they commanded was just small enough to directly dock with a far larger ship known as High Society. It was one of the largest vessel in the fleet, and had become the de facto meeting point for any conferences. Estelle suspected that it was for no reason other than the fact it had a rather pleasant auditorium. Following Artur’s footsteps, in and around the passengers that littered High Society, Estelle continued to fiddle with her holopad. An age old habit that wouldn’t die. “I’ve alerted the remaining Captains at the ad-hoc meeting that you’re heading over now. Most have already arrived. They’re just waiting on a few more, including you.”

She gave a brief but respectful salute to the man, holding it in place for a second. “I’ll be in touch via holopad if you need me. Standard procedure, as you know. I’ll head back to the ship and make sure that the passengers don’t get too rowdy.”

[Forseti]

Fredrik walked down the surprisingly empty corridor of many within the engineering deck's labyrinth. The bleak metallic colors betrayed a worn history despite the ships recent commission, something Fredrik concluded to its rushed construction and even more rushed exodus. The lighting was dim as the doctor navigated his way passed the shadows of doors and consoles of the corridor. Until he saw the recognisable symbol on one of the doors etched in thick chalk on the steel plated door.
Fredrik smacked the door beside the red cross with his palm as he checked his surroundings, something he felt necessary as he preconceived discretion in this meeting.

The door opened only slightly as a figure on the other side looked at him from the narrow gap, "who are you, what do you want?" said the voice as Fredrik tried to look for the figure's eyes. "I'm Dr Fredrik Corbett, I'm here for the red cross meeting that Doug Powell told me of" Fredrik explained, after a few seconds the figure beyond the door opened it further to allow full vision of the rooms interior. A woman Fredrik guessed was a few years younger than himself was the figure that now revealed herself, her dark black hair tied back behind her light blue jumpsuit. "Dr Corbett, Doug radioed ahead that you were coming, please come in" said the woman politely as she allowed Fredrik entry into the room. The storage room was smaller than he thought it would be, numerous crates and equipment piled up against the steel walls, a space had been cleared for a few fold out seats and a man sitting at a monitor at the edge of the clearing against the boxes. " My name is Hilary, over there at the terminal is Greg, Gregory say hi to Dr Corbett" said the woman as she indicated with her hand to the man at the monitor who did not turn to meet Fredrik properly. "Hey there doc' love to talk but I gotta get this intercom connection back up" said the man that Fredrik could identify looked more of a teenager than a fully grown adult, "Please, call me Fredrik" he insisted to the two strangers as he stood awkwardly in the cleared area of the storage room.

"Well Fredrik, we had connection to the rest of the fleet but then Gregory tried to connect the relay with another ship and lost connection with the rest of the relay" said Hilary as she looked towards the teenager with a frustrated frown. The youth turned finally away from the monitor to defend himself from the blame, " hey I was just doing what Doug told me, like he said we don't know who could be on any of these ships, besides I thought the goal was to get as many members as possible connected" said Greg as Fredrik finally got to see who the teenager was, his short blond hair sat above his youthful face that was covered in light, fluffy facial hair. " Just get us back onto the relay will you" snapped Hilary as she turned back towards the doctor, brushing her untied hair away from her face, Greg turned back towards the terminal on the rough plastic and metal chair. "Would you like a cup of water Fredrik?" asked Hilary as she put up a smile to him. Fredrik nodded with another smile as she went to get him the refreshment, before turning to look at the terminal Gregory worked on in more detail.

Bright white strings and streams visualized the connections between the ships in the fleet to a oval symbol at the center of the light aqua screen, something Fredrik assumed was the relay they had spoken of earlier. the consistency of the image altered regularly as lines between the ships continued to disappear and then reappear as Greg reconnected them and maintained the the rather fragile connections between them and the rest of the fleet. "Say Doc', listen to this feed we picked up an hour ago, can you tell what they are saying?" asked Greg as he handed Fredrik a pair of headphones and brought up the audio data on the monitor.
"Don't Greg, Fredrik only just got here" Hilary protested as Fredrik placed the headphones over his ears and listened to the audio. It was unusual, a series of sound that his mind could recognise as some sort of language but no language he had ever heard spoken before. "I'm not sure what that is, it sounds like someone is saying something I think" Fredrik deduced, the teenager shrugged and took the headphones off of Fredrik, "hmm... the relay had received it in a transmission not long before we hijacked the relay and encoded our intercoms... just seemed suspicious is all" Greg explained, turning back to the communication strings on the monitor. "Well it doesn't matter now, Doug will be back soon and we can finally get on the intercom to the others" Hilary said as she handed the metal mug of water to Fredrik, who proceeded to sip the recycled water.

[Catharyn]

A transit monorail arrived at the terminal and its doors slid quietly open. It was packed with people. Artur stepped in and turned smartly to his XO. "Understood, i'll keep you up to date." Without a sound the chrome doors slid shut, and it got on it's way to the conference Deck. The side of the mono facing the outside of the ship was without windows, on the opposite side and at both ends were panoramic windows looking out over High Society's Presidium. It was a huge open space running near the length of the whole ship. Lush gardens and raised verandas with milling vacationers stretched out leisurely below. With it's paralyzing tranquility you could almost imagine everything was alright and they were on a cruise around the solar system. Then if you looked closer you could see the squat ugly cargo crate houses and the hordes of bloodied refugees on the ground.

The people crammed into the monorail were mostly technicians, but Artur spotted someone he knew as she pushed through the crowd to greet him. "Captain Ottowa, wonderful to see you made it." He said warmly, saluting an older woman with short grey haired and augmented eyes. "Captain Vasilyev, i can say the same." She replied crisply, returning the salute. "It got pretty hairy in London the day we bugged out. Separatists blew up the Houses of Parliament." Artur grinned. "About time someone cleaned up that mess." He knew she wouldn't take offence, most officers in the Navy were resentful of government in its old form. "How did Sol's defenses look?" He asked casually. "I've been out of the system for a while now." Ottawa scratched the back of her head, shuffling aside to let a mother and child sit on one of the few benches nailed to the floor. "Geosync batteries are on full alert for those Idiran bastards. The MAC cannons on Cairo and Malta are said to be fearsome." The monorail had stopped again to pick up more passengers, and the two captains moved over to a window to make room. "Da. I heard they're designed to negate Kinetic barriers, impressive stuff."

Ottawa nodded. "Though, if the past is anything to go by, the Idirans already know that and are planning their strategy. My bet is they'll go in light, no capital ships for the stations to take down. That's why the UN is throwing all the reserves into play to stop the little ships from boarding them." It felt so strange, talking about the almost certain occupation of their home world by an unknown force. But Vasilyev had seen so much suffering of late that his mind was numb to it. An automated voice pinged that they had arrived at the conference deck. Vasilyev and Ottawa stepped off along with a score of other captains. They were in an ornate corridor, with red carpeting and real wood walls.

"How is that ships of yours, the Clear Air Turbulence is it?" Ottawa asked as they made their way to A99. "Good, our AI was beginning to go rampant so we replaced it with the new model, and the engines have been refined too." Artur said proudly. "Hows the Lindt Bunny?" He almost found himself giggling at the name of Ottawa's command. The name couldn't be further from the truth. It was the space equivalent of a tank, able to take thirty times the amount of damage of a ship built for speed. "Great! We tweaked the main gun to include a sonic focuser. Experimental stuff, instead of destroying an enemy ship we can project sonic waves through solid metal; sending the AI insane and popping the heads of any crew not wearing protective gear. Some of the crew are calling it a Bass cannon." Artur laughed, they had reached a set of teak double doors and two attendants were ushering the captains inside.

[Siphran]

Repairs were continuing at pace, everyone on the ship had something to do, and that made Tess a happy man. With the crew working at full capacity, they would hopefully have the frigate up to the best condition possible within two weeks or so. Without a proper shipyard, there was only so much that could be done.

"Captain, we're holding station, 5 klicks starboard from High Society." Tess saved the figures on his pad, then stood. "Very good, Ensign Burns, you have command of the bridge until I return. If there are any problems, I expect you to notify me immediately." She nodded, "Aye Captain." Just recently notified of the move up in schedule of a certain meeting, he hurried to the landing bay.

It was a small affair, barely large enough for the two pelicans that the vessel carried. The large blast doors were closed, the only thing seperating the pressurized interior from the cold vaccum of space. The pelicans were of a recent model, fast and capable. Surprisingly, both were still in working condition after what the ship went through, prior departure. Only one was prepped for departure however.

Four engine nacelles adorned the craft, two in the back, jutting over the loading ramp, and two towards the midline of the craft, one accompanying each stubby wing that protruded over the sides. They could carry a contigent of twelve fully armed marines, plus equipment and three crew.

At the moment, the pelican only contained four people; one man sat on a stretcher, strapped securely in the middle of the deck, the shipboard doctor and his assistant sat to one side of the stretcher, and the ship's crew chief, who pulled on over head compartments and straps. The pilot and his navigator were walking around their craft, performing pretakeoff checks.

Tess took a seat across from the medical crew and looked down at the stretcher. The man strapped to the canvas was pretty badly injured, he sports a purpled and bruised face that definitely didnt go with his wrinkles and graying hair. He knew that face well, it was his Commander and Captain, Henry Lavinge. He had been on the bridge during combat, but afterwards had gone down to the engineering deck to check with the crew. While down there a steam conduit had blown, shattering pipe and putting a lot of shrapnel right through the man.

They had managed to get him stabilized, but in order for recovery to start they needed better medical facilities, such as those on a luxury cruise liner. The flight was quick, and the landing was even quicker, this landing bay was massive compared to the Distant Edge's about ten times as big. With a wave to the crew and a promise to stop by the medical bay on his was back to the ship, Tess double timed it to the closest tram, arriving at the teak doors and attendants a few minutes after. The duration of the trip, fifteen minutes flat.