[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/5luKqwy.png[/img]
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[b]Southern Reaches[/b]
[i]Unnamed System[/i][/center]

Oizusol. Wariness. Such was the guiding doctrine of the Noiran Haven as it stretched its young limbs into the blackness of space. With such little understanding of the galaxy surrounding them and an attitude of caution and fear, Noiran civilization slow on the uptake, despite its technology, and they remained in darkness for years. Their homeworld and a few other planets -colonies- were the only places the race had stepped foot upon with their own flesh and bone, leaving much of their own system untouched and pristine. To the Noiran, who so loved their own realm, time was something they could easily 'waste'. Nothing was needed fast. There were no energy crises to solve. No overpopulation problems to manage. No hunger to dominate.

Exploring the deep was but the next step in their cementing of safety. The galaxy could not be empty; that much they were sure of. What it was full of, however, would take time to understand. And they would need to be prepared for anything. The defense array surrounding Vol was a testament to this line of thinking. Metal layers of mythic proportions surrounded portions of the planet's orbit, dotted with innumerable weapons systems. Their civilization, perhaps in wisdom, spared no expense. The monsters of the jungle had become the monsters of the void, and they feared them without question. No adult or child doubted the possibility that out there, in the darkness, lied in wait a civilization with no mercy or empathy.

Despite all their preparation and wariness, nothing, of course, could truly prepare them for the time when they'd finally make contact. Long-range drones had been sent to lifeless systems around their own, idly waiting for a signal to reach their sensors that something synthetic was present. Tiny orbs floated at the edges of each of five systems, inactive until they detected... it.

A ping. A physical force impossible by natural means. Space warped and the shockwave was easily detected millions of miles away. The drone surged into life, amorphous exterior shifting to accommodate for the hidden hardware underneath as it attuned to the anomaly. Something was there. Something unnatural. The drone followed protocol and eventually did what it was truly built to do; send a greeting.

The tiny message came in patterned blips on all wavelengths. "Sizo" it said in a human-like voice as audio. Alongside was an image of a generic Noiran of bluish-green hair; a reflection of friendliness. A Noiran emotion-symbol followed suit; a massive, poetic construction made by a historical writer specifically for this situation. It reflected nostalgia for a commendable past and the associated hope for a continued peaceful existence, though of course the language system was indecipherable.

The drone continued to ping its signal, as well as send news of the encounter back to the Vol system.