.

Cthaobbu, Ichnaea

Several Freighters started from the surface to complete the transfer of a big colony onto the Hive Ship in the orbit of Ichnaea. In addition to that a just finished cruiser began to lift of, within a smaller colony. Dozens of strong plasma engines were firing and lit up the surface in the middle of the night. This small fleet accelerated and quickly left the atmosphere until finally reaching the orbit, where the Hive and the rest of the colonization fleet was waiting. While some of the Freighters were being docked to the hive, six the Cruiser and around two dozen Destroyers moved into a formation around the hive, awaiting the start of the hive.

34 minutes later the Hive powered up it's mighty engines and accelerated towards the ninth planet of the system, surrounded by Cruisers and Destroyers, and supported by a dozen Freighters. Each ship of that fleet, leaving the orbit, was filled to the brim with Akhenaton, to populate the ninth planet. The rest of the Akhenaton ships were scattered all around the system in small groups, always near a planet or moon, or on the way to a planet or moon. Both, the seventh and the ninth planet were always under surveillance of at least a Cruiser and a dozen Destroyers. Every lifeform that could be a threat to the colonization was merciless exterminated by those ships. Those guardships are also responsible to find suitable places to settle for the first colonies on the respective planets.

Freighters were moving between Ichnaea and it's moons, transfering both material and 'people'. They would only stop that to hasten the loading of a Hive class ship or if there was a acute danger. Each Freighter could reach the planet from the moons in between ten minutes and one hour, depending on the moon used as the origin and the mass of the freight.

The colonies of Ichnaea never stoped working, while all that was happening. They started to construct two more Hive Ships and seven new Cruisers. With those ships the number of ships being constructed rose to two Hives, nine Cruisers, seven Destroyers and twelve Freighters. Millions of Akhenatons were crawling on the construction sites and Freighters were coming and going at a rapid speed, this all happens without a single trace of confusion or desorientation. They work like a single machine, constructing the ships in all directions from the origin, an efficiency and coordination no human group would ever be able to reach. But all these ships were only the begining of their construction efforts, many would follow after the few, that was the main rule of the Akhenaton.

"I bet you're wondering why I've gathered you all here today."

Standing in the Basilicom's entrance hall were an assortment of very important people. The one speaking was a short girl, seemingly just hitting puberty. Her hair was an unkempt purple with two white d-pad hair clips on either side of her head. She wore a large white and purple hoodie dress that reached down to her upper thighs and long striped stockings reaching up above her knees. A large mischievous grin adorned her face as she stared at the guests before her.

"We know why we're here Neptune. This was our idea after all. We called this meeting to talk about the upcoming expedition to the stars. Stop trying to sound so mysterious."

The girl who spoke up was around her later teenage years in appearance. Her long black hair was held in two pigtails reaching all the way down her back and held by two blue ribbons. She wore a fancy maid-like black and white dress with a blue ribbon on her collar. An annoyed expression showed on her face as she stared back at the purple haired girl, Neptune, with her arms crossed in front of herself.

"Geez Noire, way to be a party pooper. And you wonder why you don't have any friends. Poor poor Lonely Heart."

"I'm not lonely, and I do too have friends. You just... haven't met them yet..."

"Wait really? Poor friendless Noire finally found a friend? I don't believe it, you're definitely lying. It's ok Noire, you don't have to pretend around us."

It was at this time another guest decided to speak up.

"I do believe we're getting off topic here. Noire's loneliness is not the topic we came here to discuss."

The speaker this time was a young woman much more mature in appearance. She had long blonde hair and wore a regal-looking green and white dress with gold ends. A small slightly strained smile was present on her face as she tried to steer the conversation back to the correct topic.

"Yeah, Vert's right, some of us are quite busy and we don't need to have you two fighting again when we should be discussing our expansion."

The blonde haired lady, Vert, was joined by a short young girl about the same age as Neptune in appearance. Her short light brown hair hung down to her neck from under a large white hat. Her white dress included thick brown fur on the shoulders with oversized sleeves longer than her arms. She wore a neutral expression which hid a hint of anger at the situation in front of her.

"Blanc is correct, additionally, the CPU Candidates are all waiting aboard their respective nation's ships in orbit. I suggest you all hurry up and finish deciding on what to do with your nations while you are gone and join them."

Appearing from behind Neptune was a small fairy looking girl floating on a book. A white maid headdress sat in her blonde hair and she wore a plain purple dress. On her back was a pair of semi-transparent wings.

"Ah! It's Histy! So then Nep Jr. is already up in the ship she built? Then what are we waiting for? Let's go! You can handle Planeptune while I'm gone, right Histy?"

After saying this, Neptune ran off out the Basilicom door heading straight for the transport shuttle meant to take her up to the ship where her sister waited.

"She never ceases to amaze me. It looks like Neptune's dumped her nation on you again Histoire. As for me, Kei has agreed to handle Lastation until I return. My ship was going to follow Neptune's and I don't trust her not to leave without me so I guess I'll leave now."

"Thank you Noire, I'll be sure to inform you as fast as I can should something arise back here. Please take care of Neptune. I worry about her should we actually encounter other nations."

With this said Noire left for her shuttle, leaving Blanc, Vert, and Histoire in the Planeptune Basilicom. Blanc was the first to speak.

"I'd rather not take my sisters with me on this, but they refused to be left behind. Mina will handle Lowee just fine without me, but tell me if anything happens Histoire. As for you Vert, I'm still not happy about being stuck with you."

"Do not fear Blanc, I'm not interested in you for this trip. But you must admit that your expedition needed some beauty added to it. There's only so much you can do in negotiations with your... small size. Luckily I was able to convince Chika to handle Leanbox while I provide your group with my own charm."

"What did you just say about me? Say that again you fricking bitch! I'll kill you!"

"Now now dear Blanc, we need to get along now that we will be traveling together. It would be quite a shame if I needed to leave you here and take your sisters on this trip without you. I'll be leaving to my ship now. I'd recommend you do the same."

At that Vert left for her shuttle with Blanc following to hers shortly after once she had cooled down a bit. This left a tired looking Histoire alone in the Basilicom.

"What am I going to do with those four... I hope their expeditions are successful, and I hope they stay safe along the way."



As the four CPUs shuttles reached their respective ships, the fleet sitting above Planeptune started to move. The ships under Planeptune and Lastation control went off in one direction while those under Lowee and Leanbox control went in another. Once the ships were set up into their two fleets, the newly developed warp drives activated and the fleets disappeared into the darkness of space, hoping to find others out there among the stars.

To human kind the early expression of freedom was the sea. Early man took to the high waters when they discovered to hew tree trunks into hallowed canoes. And from these canoes they began to expand on their creation, designing greater and greater boats, then ships. Soon the men of southern Europe had conquered the Mediterranean Sea forging vast empires. The Polynesians found no boundary to contain them as they conquered the Pacific, spreading their people and cultures to islands and atolls so small they hardly crested the waves to the great islands of New Zealand, Tonga, Easter, and the archipelagos of Hawaii.

In their own time, European kingdoms would become empires, taking to the sea and spreading their language, customs, and people to the New World; America, Africa, Asia. Trade flowed, wars fought. The sea was turned red and flowed with gold.

But the sea was not the permanent expression of freedom. Early flight developed through hot air balloons that lifted a man high above the ground as he dreamed for millennium, and sailing on currents he could travel and see the land below. But while the hot air balloon was primitive and limiting, it was the first to break man's shackles to the ground.

It was on Caroline shores, in the United States the invention of motorized flight realized the next step in man's conquest of the air. And within the life-time of a man the airplane evolved with such speed and ferocity it was looking back at the old march of creation a spectacle in its own right. An airplane starting off being so small it could only host a single rider, or two; eventually dropping bombs.

The first forays into space were conducted in the 1960's, the early expeditionary force breaking man's shackles to Earth to conquer the Moon, Mars, and the Sol system. While stunted by catastrophic war, mankind broke free eventually, and so he entered the stars. A conquistador on the wings of science.
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A single lone spacecraft floated through the vast vacuum between worlds, foreign to the system it had entered. A single white dwarf anchoring an otherwise rocky and desolate solar system. Clouds of dust and debris floated thick in a slow orbit through the great expanse. Small asteroids, microscopic particles. Dimly illuminated in the faint white glow of the ancient star was a gas giant, close in size to the alien sun, perhaps three-quarter's its parent's size; beat red with orange and lemon yellow storm bands.

The alien space craft, long and without particular eloquence with a tapered chisel of a nose put the sun on its side as it flew at a slow distance from it. A multitude of lights along its hull carried a dull constant glow in the darkness of space. In the cloud of dust, the shadow it cast through empty space was a surreal and unreal sight, a hard edge that stretched unceasingly into the distant void as the rest of space around it shimmered with a pale white and blue light.

“System report.” a tall, physically fit officer shouted in the command bridge of the exploratory vessel. His white hair combed down the side of a tall angular head in sharp points, a pair of rounded ears peaking out.

“System looks largely void.” one of the petty officers on deck called back. He leaned over the terminal screens as he searched the area through a telescopic camera, “The gas giant looks like it might be promising. There are seven moons orbiting it.”

“Composition?” asked the captain.

“Ice. Hydrogen, methane, water, it's hard to tell. But they're mostly ice from what I can gather from the spectrographic information.” said another.

“Very well. You have permission to take us in further to get a look at them.” the captain ordered with a wave of his hand. His duty so far complete he sat back in his chair and leaned back, crossing his leg as he held up a hand on a resting elbow, the other falling in his lap. The sleeves of a long kimono-like uniform-type outfit falling from his wrist as he slackened his wrist and laid his temple on extended fingers.

The view on the screens that decorated the far wall from his seat changed as the orientation of the ship took a long sweeping turn, facing the dwarf star before pointing itself towards the orbiting gas giant. The call outs of typical bridge chatter filled the air.

“Thrusters powering up, 75%.”

“Energy input is clear. High, but clear.”

The change in the size of any of the objects in the screens was imperceptible. The gas giant itself on these screens was hardly visible in the glare of the ancient star. But both seemed to be growing. Slowly at first, then more speedily.

“Cruising speed met.” a petty officer declared.

At that, the power cut out. With a silent flash the lights cut out, the screens died, and an anxious chattering filled the bridge. The captain rose his head and leaned forward in his chair, “What just happened?” he boomed.

A palpable fear, humiliation, and anger filled the scene. Men scrambled – they were all men – to find out what happened. Dashing to other councils or mashing every button available to them to find something – anything – that worked. But they couldn't find anything.

After several seconds, a dull red light illuminated the bridge. The dark forms of stricken crewmen looked around. Then faint and full of static there came a voice from a isolated intercom by the captain's seat. “Sir!” the voice said, “Error in the reactor bay. Coolant intake to the main reactor chamber shut off. The system closed the reactor cycle.”

“What do you mean?” the captain snarled, planting a finger on the button. He desperately feared a meltdown.

“The system reacted as it should, the fuel has been disengaged from the main chamber.” the engineer reported, almost reading his mind, “We're looking into the problem now.”

“How long?” the captain asked. The ship was adrift in open space and they were blind.

“Fifteen minutes.”

The captain grimaced, biting the inside of his cheek as he swallowed the given estimate. “Do it in ten.” he ordered, hoping to buy them some time.

“Ten minutes, sir?” the engineer repeated, his confidence flagging.

“Yes, ten minutes!”

There was a tense silence. “Y-yes sir.” the engineer replied. “Signing off.”

The captain leaned back. He felt sweat beading at his hair line. His hand shook as he rose a finger to his chin, trying to maintain an air of composure in the dim light for the officers down below. Crossing a leg, he leaned back and waited for the emergency to pass.

Without power to the ship, shields were down; if there were any large orbital bodies they had failed to detect around the star then they'd be in certain danger. But he wasn't worried about that, they had not found anything on their appearance, journey through, and passing into the inner system. Without power, they easily had two-hundred hours of air, they wouldn't necessarily need to cycle it while they wanted, it would only be ten minutes.

But with no power came no fire-suppression, and in an oxygen enriched environment that could spell certain devastation. But he had suffered no incidents like that on his vessel, so he was confident this would never happen.

What he was most worried about though was passing into the star, or so close the ship would begin to take damage from it. It may have been a white dwarf, but passing so close to it would have dangerous repercussions. The other danger was that at their speed and bearing, he worried without end they might pass directly into the gas giant and be torn and pulverized in its storms and gravity.

His body rattled with anxiety, he felt hungry, and they were all blind. The conditions were not optimal. And all they had to do was wait. All he had to do was put on a practiced air of silent confidence.

So they waited. The bridge was silent. It was tense.

Then there came the pattering against the hull. Like rain against a tin roof something was colliding with them. He swallowed hard, but refused to change his posture, retaining composure or the air of it as they flew naked through some meteorite shower, with only the metal of their hull to save them. The bridge officers looked up at him for guidance, read his composure, and turned back to waiting.

But the ticking and the tacking and the pattering of stone, metal, and ice against their hull never stopped. It took on a constant and relentless shower, then a gale. And all at once there was a loud crash. An audible gasp of shock took the crew. The adrenaline kicked in, the hearts raced. They waited, trapped in their tin can.

There was another crash at the side of the hull.

The men were silent. The captain was silent. This ship of theirs was a divine wind, and it would sweep aside all threat.

Another bang.

Like the wind through autumn leaves, there will be nothing left on the branch.

A bang that crunched, echoed in the bridge. It had hit right over top of them. The ringing continued like a bell.

Like a wind through a winter's field, the snow will brush aside.

A catastrophic bang.

Like a wind, here came death.

There was a tremendous crashing that sucked all the wind. The ship rocked and everything went haywire. Something came lose, and gravity was lost. Everyone lifted from their seats, an audible squeal tore through the room. A crack had opened in the hull and through it rushed the air. Through it came the shower.

Dust, rock, and ice filled into the cabin. The cold asphyxiation of space tearing at their flesh, at their eyes, at their lungs. The captain made a feebled attempt to stay rooted to his seat but the escaping atmosphere pulled him away as fingers started slipping. His crew were already falling towards the crack. Soon enough bodies packed into it it had stopped, but not for long as another tremendous object smashed the space ship and widened the destruction. All the rest flew out as the metal of the hull peeled back into a gaping maw, inviting all into the empty embrace of space beyond. The captain's eyes widened, he smelled white hot metal, seared flesh. A welder's torch. His skin went cold as it boiled. His fingers froze up and he let go. He was tossed into the emptiness of space and in his dying eyes beheld the crumbling remains of his space ship.

A large mountainous rock was carrying it off. And alongside it, departing was the white glint. He recognized it as a man in a space suit. Someone had escaped, without his orders. The last thing he felt was rage.
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His heart raced, his head pound, and he felt a wetness at the groin of the suit. He waved his arms, trying to swim through nothing as he spun and reeled about as he flew through the vast void. Spinning at a high rate he would simultaneously catch glimpses of the alien star they were headed for and the star ship he was on being slowly shredded by a mountainous asteroid. It had batted them aside, with the casual indifference of swatting a fly. It had just happened, came out of nowhere. One moment he was designated to crawl into the reactor and chase the blockage that had stopped the flow of cold coolant water, and the next he was emptied out into space.

It was believed that perhaps something had broken, that water was leaking. Backup terminal reports had indicated that the flow from the reservoir tank had stopped and automatic valves and shut the flow. So something had happened in the ducts. A blockage, then pressure burst the pipes that ran the water passed space for a rapid cooling from the hot-water reserve tank. It seemed like a cut and dry case. He had been given seven minutes. It had taken two to put on his suit and enter the main pipe where the incident was believed to have occurred. Another minute and a half before the whole thing went to shit and he was cast out into the hostile world of space, like an aborted fetus with the water.

Now most of that covered him, and it had frozen fast. Every move he took seemed to shake off more ice and clouded him in a brilliantly shimmering cloud of snow. The light of the alien star reflected brilliantly from it, and what was worse was that he was in an amorphous cloud of the now frozen coolant water. With him too was a cloud of debris, pieces of metal that spun uncontrollably in his direction.

Before then, he couldn't have said to have ever known fear. Or true terror. But staring down nothing but stars and the dizzily fast streak of the white dwarf really punctuated true terror. He was lose without a chance of discovery or recovery at all. He was all alone to collect his life and wait for sweet death to come via asphyxiation. At least he could count on Carbon Dioxide poisoning to pass him into unconsciousness first he hazard, and then he would have honor to die. But he needed to wait some twelve hours first before anything happened.

It would be a long suicide.

Space didn't leave much to reflect on physically. At the thousandth passing of the alien sun in his vision he had stopped noticing it as it swung by. He had begun to turn inwardly, to think about his lover at home. And all his brothers. The visits to hot springs and meals by candlelight in the warm waters after a hard day of working at the space ports. Rice balls and space sake. He found though he didn't miss those so much, he had so many he'd have enough to dwell on after death. Nor his lover's smile, it was such a warm thing he'd see more of him he imagined, or so he told himself. No, it would have been the singing of his neighbor in the next floor down in the apartments.

He always sang like trash, but it was funny. Between his work and whatever he did, the chance was never offered much. He'd sing incredibly old raunchy tunes in such a faux blues-man voice that between terrible translation and being so off-key he was a character for a comedy. Maybe not a good one, but not a bad one. One that was alright and had its moments, the sort that'd be taken from the film itself to enjoy on its own. He imagined the old neighbor sliding across a wooden floor in only socks and underwear. That's what made him tolerable and ironically enjoyable.

And now in dead silence, that is what he would have liked to hear the most. He hated the silence most of all. It was entirely absolute. His heart and breath the only thing to fill his ears.

This reflection though didn't last long, and he lapsed into denial of the situation all together and began to panic and cry. Eventually this ebbed and he remembered his suit had a emergency broadcaster. He doubted it would do anything. But when lost and alone anything was worth the show.

Trying to look down at the chest plate of the suit he scoured the buttons and knobs on it, trying to find the button to activate the emergency beacon. When facing the suit head on it wasn't too much trouble. But when in it, spinning a foot a minute it was very difficult to look for anything when one looks at one's own feet tumbling through nothing with no where to fall to. This sight alone induced a feeling of Vertigo, and he fell violently ill all of the sudden.

He struggled to suppress the urge, to hold down his stomach. But all at once he had to vomit. He plastered the inside of his helmet with the contents of his stomach, and winced as what didn't cling slid back or floated in towards his face. He groaned in disgusted exasperation. He was now blind.

Finally, his gauntlet-puffed hands found the beacon button, and he mashed it. Even through the vomit he could see the dull red glow of the emergency flasher. Now he had only wait, and relapse again into reflection.

He really wanted a hamburger.
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The cabin was surprisingly well decorated. For men often described as pirates, bums, drifters, and any other cruel invective to be used against them there was a certain eloquence in the whole that could only come from not having money, and having only the desire to be, have, and produce. Nearly half an alien forest had been cut down for the wood that decorated the floor and provided a far too posh wainscoting for space-bound hobos. Dark and rich, it was veined with waving lines of pearly white that shone with shimmers of pink and blue flecks in the ivory veins. Dressed in a rich finish, it only added more gloss to contrast with the dull fiberglass white of the rest of the room.

“So I was back in the Alpha Centuari system,” began a large brute looking of a man. Dressed in only a slack T-shirt and a pair of well worn jeans he looked more a delinquent gangster than anyone fit for the fine accommodations of the room he was in, but he sat at a large round table with eight other men who sat with forks in hand at bowls of fresh green salad, made of mixed Earthly and alien vegetables and greens, “And this fucking sinewy-ass motherfucker comes up to me. He's looking for trouble, I can see that in his eyes.”

As the man in the tee-shirt told the story his smile widened across his face, his otherwise rosacae tinged face glowing a brighter red as he recounted his adventures, “And he's looking for trouble. He watch him as he looks down at my belt and he asks me, 'so what the Hell are you Garthbarg the Satellite Guy' and I look up at him and I sort of study his prissy-ass face and his red eye implant and I say, putting my best Gathbarg impression on: 'Well yepperdoodle my fellow toddle!'

“And this fucker just sort of steps back with this face that's just saying, 'are you fucking retarded?' I laugh at him and he leans in and says, 'Listen bum, I don't like dirty space monkeys around here. I'll have you know this is a fine establishment.'”

There was a round of laughter at the table, clearly anticipating where this was going. The man in the T-shirt dug into his space salad and chewed on the leafy greens. A mix of sweet and lemony tastes filled his mouth. “So I just sort of roll my eyes at him and go back to my hotdog. Well the guy gets mad and he grabs my shoulder and pissed off I yell at him, 'What the fuck can't you let a man suck down wieners in peace!'

“Clearly this fucker had something going on because his face just goes blank and he blushes. But before I could say anything he decks me across the face. Well this wasn't at all polite, and he had given me the invitation so I decked him in the stomach and hammered his face into the counter.”

“Good god, who disturbs a man when he's eating.” commented one of his companions, “That's rude as hell.”

“You ain't joking. But after I launched him into the counter it was clear he wasn't moving anymore. So shit, I did what any normal man would do and paid my tab. I couldn't hang around, I didn't want to be there when he woke up.”

“Ay, neither would I.” said another, “Fucking animals.”

There was a general nod of approval. “Still,” the T-shirted man said, reaching for a glass, “a toast to whopped assholes and fine dogs.”

“Here here!” the others agreed, raising their glasses in toast.

The table slipped into amiable silence after with only the clinking of forks in glass bowls. The silence of the bowls was broken when the T-shirt man looked up and turned to the man on the other side of his neighbor. “So, Abe.” he began, “Just want to know, where'd you get the military coat?”

Abe looked up and over to him. He had a broad face and a heavy set jawline. His nose was large and stuck far from his face. Eyes shone with a blue passionate freedom from behind a pair of heavy rimmed glasses and below a wide brow with a close shaven hairline. His arm was missing, and he had a cybernetic arm in its place, and he wore an old Terran officer's coat.

“That's a fun story.” Abe – Abraham, really – began. “Won it in a poker game back on Earth some...” he thought for a second, “Thirty-five years ago.” Most everyone on board knew the story, but the man in the T-shirt was new. And while Abe sat as an equal among everyone at the table, he also commanded respect and admiration equal to that of a captain in any formal context. The coat was to the men of the commune vessel, a well earned decoration.

It had undergone changes since its transfer in ownership, as well as being worn down over the years. It had been patched, but many of the old ribbons had been cut off and replaced with Abe's own decorations. Trophies from alien worlds, trinkets sewn into the heavy fabric from alien tribes. He was adorned with an eclectic assortment of tribal totems, charms, and fetishes. A gallery of planets he visited, and communities to which he had become a god in the past twenty years.

“Aw man, that's got to be an excellent story.” laughed T-shirt man.

“Oh, it is alright.” one of the tablemates said, and forgetting restraint, “Especially his 'magic flush'.”

“Shut up, you're going to spoil it.” Abe said with a smile, looking up at him.

“Well shit. You gotta tell the man!” the other declared.

“I wi-” Abe began, he was cut off by a ringing sound from a terminal near by.

“Hey, what is it!?” Abe shouted, half-rising out of his seat.

“Abe, we picked up a transmission. From the other side of the system.” a female's voice said

Abe scrunched his face, perplexed. “We weren't alone?” he asked.

“I suppose not. It just came in.”

“Alright, wait for me. I want to check this out.” He shouted at the terminal. Rising from his seat he apologized to his comrades and stepped from the table. Passing a hat rack by the door he picked up his cap and crowned himself as he headed out into the hall.

As where he had been dining, the ornate trim and standard white fiber-glass walls with alien wood floor boards gilded the halls. It was a remarkable sort of wood that even oiled had a surreal glow to it under the halogen lights' warm glow.

The wood as it were was from an alien word, like many things. Though one they could not themselves visit, the gravity being so high. Instead, the ship had unleashed its drones to scour and inspect the world, finding the alien trees and bringing back samples of the wood. On return of the samples, it was found the much lower pressure in the ship's hull allows the hard composite bark to break and 'breath', revealing something like tree rings elsewhere, but not marked by dark or faint circles, but a rich white like mother of pearl. And as analysis of it concluded, it pretty much was; as it turned out the soil of the planet was rich in calcium and the planet subject to sandstorms. The bark of these trees had thus become packed thick with calcium carbonate which crystallized as it mixed with the tree sap and the trees grew.

It was considered fascinating enough the commune crew had made a decision, by vote, to bring it on board to fashion, or deliver to Fairer stockpiles.

The wood proved difficult to work, but it was an alien stowaway they had adopted into the crew that managed to work it out. Grom, a toad-like alien was the one to figure out how to plane, carve, and furnish the wood in engine oil, wiped down in degreaser to finish it. However it had come about was beyond them.

Grom himself had snuck onto the ship one adventure, and discovered sometime later after they had left his home-world. He was amiable enough, who when realizing what had happened was struck with a mixture of joy and terror. He learned English quick, and insinuated himself with the crew and they adopted him as one of their own. He never wanted to go back home until he saw “all worlds”.

The command bridge of the commune ship stood at the nose of the long space-ship. To access, Abe had to climb a ladder through a duct. As he ascended, gravity gradually lessened until he pulled himself up and he began floating through a great central shaft. Much of the ship was on a centrifuge. He floated into the command bridge.

Here, great tinted windows looked out at space. Flickering monitors displays the craft's status, but so too did many others about the ship. All information was made common crew knowledge and any terminal could be used to bring up internal data on the functions of the wanderer. The bridge was shaped like a bullet, at far at the front was a communications terminals. Floating nearby, legless was the communications officer on board, or so called because she like to do it and had 'a voice for radio'.

She looked back at Abe as he entered and smiled. Her blonde hair was tied up behind her head and she turned towards him. “I was wondering where you were.” she asked.

“I was on my way.” he said.

Michele was her name. A woman of twenty-six, an accident when she was a teenager took her legs. She had since used prosthetic, but for whatever reason she disconnected them when weightless. Her excuse was they were cumbersome because she had not feeling in them. They were strapped to a far-wall alongside a fire-extinguisher.

Michele was otherwise a tall woman, muscular and well built. He face fair and rosy, she spent a lot of time in the tinted solitude of the command bridge, where with tint or no tint she was known to sometimes drift naked, sunbathing in alien sunlight. She was decidedly clothed then.

“I got a notification a new radio signal had been detected two minutes ago.” she said, “So I came on in to get details. It fired off at the edge of the system.” she said in a flat matter-of-business tone of voice. Outside the enormous presence of the gas giant dominated the window, half shadowing the parent star. Its gaseous clouds flickering and flashing with great bolts of lightning and its poles brightly illuminated by a permanent cap of aurora. In the distance behind it was a spectacular moon rise of one of its several ice moons which case a rainbow of color from a geyser-fueled atmosphere as it passed through the brilliance of the white dwarf.

Rotating along the command bridge's diameter was the main ship. Moving about its main centrifuge. Making gravity.

“Do we know by who?” Abe asked.

“Not Federation, that much is certain.” she said, “Here, listen.” reaching out she pressed a small button on the communications terminal, playing the signal. A loud pattern of beeps and a low hum played through the speaker. She hit the button again and it stopped.

“It's been doing that ever since.”

“What do you think it is?” Abe asked.

Michele shrugged. “Beats me.” she quipped, “One thing for sure though is it isn't natural.”

“You listen to a lot of radio signals. Take a guess, will you?” Abe asked.

She thought for a bit, chewing on her lower lip. “Maybe emergency. Or they know we're here and trying to call us out.”

Abe nodded, and shrugged. “I suppose if they want to kill us they could have tried it already. The ship isn't all that large in all honesty.”

“So check it out?” she asked.

“Do.”

She nodded, and went reached out to a handset on the terminal. Making a few button presses, she dialed into the ship itself and relayed the orders and coordinates. After a while, the entire ship began to move. Laboring at first as it fought the orbital cradle it had moved itself into and off into space and the nearby signal.

His job done, Abe turned and pushed off through the weightless chamber, holding onto and pushing off against terminals to control his movement as he went to the hatch and went to the far-side of the ship, to receiving. He would need to see whatever they brought in by drone.

Hour and a half later, the ship had pulled near to the abandoned Ziani in his wild an untamed orbit. The mass of the new ship drawing close helped to stabilize his voyage through nothing in its own gravity well. In effect, it had captured him. Shielding energy sparkled in the darkness as the tail end of the meteor cloud that had destroyed the Ziani vessel passed on by. A drone was deployed, an awkward sphere of a machine with several cameras and great reaching industrial arms. For as heavy as they were, they were gentle and they secured the lost man and brought him aboard. Docking itself, the drone placed the newcomer on the floor where he shook in the new artificial gravity. The airlock shut, the vomit on the visor actually began to run down, if it was not frozen. Sound returned to him, and he picked up his head to look about. He had actually been saved, the impossible had happened, and he wondered aloud at these circumstances as internal hanger door opened and he was greeted. “I hope you can understand me.” a figure standing above him said, “But welcome to the Secret Service. Let's get you out of that suit.”

Naris orbit
The New Frontier orbital station has been a hive of activity for the past ten ten months. Among the few passenger liners and ever present freighters, nested in the numerous berths scattered around the station itself, were at least six Warrior and four Prowler-class corvettes. Further behind them, hidden away from most praying eyes, the bow of a Starfury-class heavy cruiser was visible from Colonel Eudorian’s seat in the station’s observation dome. Although the Council tried to conceal the uncommon activity around the shipyards by covering the open berths with metal plates, everyone knew something was coming. It was uncommon for the military to seal off several berths without at least a nonsense cover story. The Colonel remembered the rumors that emerged mere hours after the Exile Rebellion because the official sources were silent, leaving imagination running rampant. Fortunately, public relations weren’t his responsibility. He would just have to tell everyone that he doesn’t know about anything. He picked up his bag and walked out of the observation deck, heading toward the shuttle bay.

Minutes before departure, a fair-skinned woman rushed into the small passenger compartment, panting for breath despite her powered suit.
“Ran quite a distance, have we?” The Colonel asked.
“Indeed. Major Agrippa Nazari, your new XO.” She responded, handing him a stack of papers, “Crew list, cargo manifest, my transfer order and recommendation, engineering reports for the past two weeks and Gunnery officer’s inspection summary.”
“For Maxtis’ sake, take a breath.” he growled, thumbing through the papers, stopping briefly at the Major’s service record.
“Departure orders? I still haven’t received any.” she asked.
“T minus thirteen hours. Smart of them, we’ll be leaving with Lux on the other side of the planet. With no light, the only thing visible will be the subspace windows. The jump point is located away from the observation dome, so even those will not be seen by many. We’re jumping beyond the outer belt, ten kilometers from the node.”
“That’s a lot of secrecy. How they managed to hide a fleet of eight corvettes, four frigates, two destroyers and two cruisers goes beyond me.”
“Four destroyers and ten corvettes. ND Edia, ND Ernoma, NCv Corvus and NCv Anisedora were added to the list yesterday.”
“That’s twenty ships, not counting transports.” she gasped, “Now I hope we don’t find any intelligent life, because if we show up in someone’s back yard with this lot, nobody with their head screwed on right will believe us when we tell them we are just exploring the neighbouring systems. I understand they’re being cautious, but this is built like an invasion fleet.”
“The Council fears we will run into hostile life. Would you rather come prepared and hope you can reach out to them before an accident happens, or face an empire of xenophobes that see you as a snack with just six Prowlers and two Auroras as was originally planned? But you’re right. I intend to hold back most of the fleet. Well only take three ships through. We’ll decide what to do based on what we’ll find on the other side. But I reckon it’ll be a bunch of rocks, maybe a few useful planets. Or we could jump near a black hole for all we know.”

Fourteen hours later
The expeditionary fleet assembled around the intersystem node. The Starfury and Aurora-class cruisers in the middle, flanked by the rest of the ships. Colonel Eudorian took up his position on the Ira’s bridge, looking over the fleet. Only the position lights were visible, with the occasional faint glow of thrusters here and there.
“FCO, contact the ND Elbus and NFg Impavida. Order them to follow us through. SCO, Tell the others to hold here. Boffins estimate the jump to take a little under four hours. If they don’t hear from us within eight hours, they are to notify Control and send a scout to report immediately. Should that happen, tell them to expect trouble. We’ll try to call back as soon as possible.”
The three ships broke formation, heading towards the center of the node.
“Engineering reports subspace motivators ready. Both reactors steady.”
“Signal the others. Jump in ten seconds.”
Three subspace windows opened and swallowed the three ships, sending them onto a four hour journey into the unknown.

It was the middle of the night, the air was pleasantly cool. Leri, the moon that controlled Gais' tides, shown brightly in the cloudless sky. Around it, a mural of various stars and planets. They weaved a deep story of constellations and shapes. To think that Staiuskind had gone up there. The two Staius in the yellow car were young, recent creations. They had yet to fully develop a neural network of electrons. Nevertheless, they were old enough to be trusted on their own.

Dust plumed in their wake, they were offroading. The radio was on. "Gooooood evening Narrev! This is your disk jockey, one-eyed Rrruuumbbleeeerrrr! Say say say, what's a little Perintan night without a little Rock n' Roll? We gotta rock tonight, till' broad daylight! Gonna rock around the clock tonight! Take it away, Kiul Brothers!"

The voice of the disc jockey was replaced with a rock song. The two Staius smiled, their favorite. They eventually came to a stop at a bluff, getting out from the vehicle. They sat on the hood, taking in the night. The moon illuminated them both, and the field of stars was dazzling. They were miles away from civilization -- their car had ensured that. A small town was illuminated on the horizon, some streetlights polluting the sky with light.

They had a drag race in the morning, they knew that. But the night was young and the weather was perfect. "Can't believe they're launching the Reaul 7 tomorrow. Think we'll be able to watch it on the telly?" one of them spoke, eliciting a reply from the second. "Hell if I know. I hope we win the race, your hotrod's pretty fast. Just don't tell em' it's your mama's car."

A sigh. A giggle. They looked up at the stars. Some day, Staiuskind would control it all, surely.



"The eyes of the world now look into space. To the moon, and the planets beyond. We have vowed we shall not see it with a hostile flag of conquest, but by a banner of freedom and peace." The voice paused for applause. "We choose to go to the moon not because it is easy, but because it is hard."

"Why do we wish to go there? Because it is there. Space is there. And we're going to climb to it. The moon and the planets are there. New hopes for knowledge and peace are there. And therefore, as we set sail, we ask the First Star's blessing, as we embark on the most dangerous and most hazardous journey upon which our kind has ever embarked." More applause.

The television cut out. It switched to the mission control. There, a hundred Staius were packed into a room, watching their terminals and screens. The launch of Reaul 7 was in order, and the eyes of the world were upon them. If this mission was successful, Leri would be landed upon, and the Staius who landed would then return. It would be a great achievement for Staiuskind.

"Go no go for launch countdown. Cut the chatter in this room." the announcer said, at the behest of the director of the Narrev National Aeronautics and Space Administration. The various peoples at the consoles gave the go for launch, each one in order, and the launch countdown began.

The nation was glued to their television sets. 9. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4. Initiate engines. 3. 2. 1. Launch.

The rocket lifted up into the air, and soon to the atmosphere. It shed its main rockets, and moved to secondary orbital thrusters. That too was then shed, and the ship with three astronauts aboard was sent into space.

Then, later, 210 hours into the mission, mission control was again called to action. They were entering lunar orbit. They were go for power descent. The ship began the descent, with two astronauts aboard the lander. Millions of people were watching as the lander hit the surface. The astronaut, their shell covered in reflective gold foil -- a lesson hard-learned in solar radiation from previous accidents -- stepped down onto the surface. Cheers filled mission control.

"For here we have been, and for here we will wish to return."

The two astronnauts planted a flag of the Federated States of Narrev, and placed a plaque by its side. The plaque read:
HERE STAIUS FROM THE PLANET GAIS
FIRST SET FOOT UPON THE MOON
WE CAME IN PEACE FOR ALL STAIUSKIND.

This was all broadcasted worldwide, every channel covering it. Not out of force, but out of each channel's own decision. From Cantor to Narrev, all corners of the globe were watching the two Staius. Then, came the broadcast of the astronauts on their plaque.

"This is our commemoration that will be here until someone like us, until some of you, who are out there, who are the promise of the future, come back to read it again."

Thus finished the first broadcast from Gais' moon. It was a historic moment for every Staius, and a historic moment for their entire species. They had completed their first evolutionary steps into the universe.

Abe leaned against the door as he looked in, perplexed towards his guest's hunger. With him, a motley collection of his fellow crew stood watching the anonymous alien scarf down entire meals. He ate with what seemed to be a ravenous hunger. It was almost a cartoon.

“Did we tell him it was really all you can eat?” someone whispered in earshot of Abe. He turned towards the speaker and shrugged indifferently. The speaker returned the gesture with a still inquisitive look, still searching for answers.

Thus far, the alien human had put down four whole sausages – in buns – two hamburgers, a third a roast, a bucket of ice-cream, and only just started slowing when he went for chips. Sucking on a soda along the way. Abe was reluctantly thankful that he had not found the dispensers in the commissary, where his meals were being retrieved from.

Tucked away in the medical cordon of the ship, the medics had wanted to perform examinations on him. When inspecting him for signs of disease he complained to them that he was feeling starved, and in fears over how long he had been adrift alone any and all food that could be mustered was brought to him, mustard and all.

Though he was only one, and unlikely to go through their entire on-board food supply – hydroponics included – there was a spreading feeling that if there were more of his race on board they would easily need to report into the nearest Stockpile to be resupplied before they would have otherwise thought it necessary. But what part of this was biological to his king, or some kind of emotional response to stress was up in the air.

As he slowed eating, and looked up to notice everyone watching a nervous blush bloomed in his face. “I, uh- I'm sorry...” he said nervously, smiling sheepishly.

“Well it's good to see you haven't lost your appetite.” Abe said in amazement.

The alien nodded in agreement, looking the other way. Really, it was amazing both parties could communicate, granted both talked slow to each other to avoid any miscommunication. “So are you done?” Abe asked.

The alien human nodded. He never seemed to relax, and set in a different setting altogether appeared nervous and all together alert. A physical examination by the doctors was very intense due in part to this stress.

His long purple hair fell about his narrow rounded face in messy treads and ropes of greasy barely kempt locks. His likewise violet eyes had a nervous tense look to them as they darted about. Much the rest of his features were narrow and tightly set, made worse by furled brows and a nearly greedy, beaver like brooding of his food. He scratched compulsively at his arms and hands.

“OK.” he said, turning to dismiss his companions, “I think we should talk.”

The Ziani looked up at him with wide eyes and stammered incoherently. Shirking back as Abe sat down across from the examination table.

Unlike most of the living quarters of the ship, the medical bay had not been outfitted with the alien wood, much like engineering and maintenance. It retained a stark sterile look with highly polished stainless steel and linoleum finish. Computer terminals and cabinets of medical examination equipment lined the walls, and small thickly pained windows looked out at the space that slowly moved as the hull rotated.

“So, first question: who are you?”

The Ziani froze, blathered, and hesitated answering. Abe had thought to sweeten the deal, “You tell me, I'll tell you.”

The offer did something better, and the hesitating threat of danger seemed to wane substantially. “Tsimatsu Sun.” he answered, and looked up at Abe apprehensively.

“Abraham Norowitz,” Abe said to him, “I run this ship.”

“So you're the captain?”

“In a sense, no. No one's the captain. But they do look up to me.” he answered, “They seem to trust me with some of the big things and answers.” he added with a smile.

Tsimatsu looked at him stunned, “How does this even work?” he said, aghast.

“Plenty of trust.” Abe laughed, with a dismissive wave of the hand, “Most beings we've met don't need leaders per-say. The by-and-by functions of life can go on without command, order without orders. We're a people of equals.”

“But, back to you.” Abe continued, returning to the line of questioning, “Where are you from?”

Again, the question made him hesitate and falter. He took several moments to answer, and when he did it was nervous; almost as if he was looking for a way out. “Saigonoseiiki. What is this? Who are you? Am I captive!?”

Abe dismissed him. “No, you're still a free man.” he comforted, “Your aboard the Secret Service, part of the Free Fairer Society. We just rescued you from space.”

Tsimatsu thought to that, and shuddered terrified. He squirmed a little further from the nearest window and took a deep breath and unconsciously scratched at the back of his neck. “You don't need to worry yourself, we're not about to dump you out there again. And you don't need to answer this either: but what were you doing out here?”

“What were you?” the Zaini asked.

“Taking a break and charging our cells. Our power reserves were too low to make a jump out and we were holding off and enjoying the view.”

“And how didn't we notice you?” he asked.

Abe nodded towards space, “That gas giant probably helped. It's been throwing up some hell in interference. I'm honestly surprised we caught the signal. Then again, the planet may have bent it around to us, you never know.” he dismissed the rest of it with a shrug.

Tsimatsu nodded warily. “We were exploring.”

“For?”

“I was never told.”

“Understood. Do you want to go back home I take it?”

Tsimatsu thought about it. “Well... I... Yes, but...”

“But?”

“I don't know if I could. I got away from disaster, someone may read it as a battle, maybe. I would have been a survivor, one who retreated. If they...”

“Found the Black Box, would it help if we retrieved it?”

“You would be hunted down...”

“We can destroy it.”

“How?”

“We have a gas giant and an old star. Either will do the trick.”

“Why would you?”

“Isn't what you're implying, or trying to say is that if you came home and they thought you were a coward you'd be killed?”

“Not reall- no, maybe?”

Abe shrugged. “Either way, what do you need us to do? Want us to grab it and you can return home with it; the maybe-victor of disaster? The last lone survivor to tell the tale. Then, maybe destroying any recorder would leave your story the only one there is left.”

Tsimatsu groaned, dropping his head he rubbed at his temples and mumbled to himself. “I don't know.” he said.

“How about this: I'll set you up with a bed, you can rest on it, and we'll grab the black box. It can be pitched into the nearest star at any time you like. What do you think?”

“I think- I think I need to lay down.” Tsimatsu agreed.

“Good thinking.”

Rofafpasub, Wusdafu

Odaly sat in her chair as the processors hummed all around her, the room dark around her save for the glow of the computer's monitor. A bag of crisp mrufgu'af-a sweet, banana like fruit common on Wusdafu-chips sat between her legs, and she occasionally popped one into her mouth. At the same time in most places on the planet, people were resting (even a sleepless species needs to rest their mind and muscles). Odaly, on the other hand, was hard at work despite all appearances.

She was a resident of the antisol territories that had once been ruled by the Great Republic before unification, and they had taken much longer to integrate into the Union than the other lands absorbed in the Twilight War. She could still remember the days before the old economy of the Republic had been phased out, in fact, the machine that surrounded her had been a product of it. A relic of an earlier time, before the Twilight War had come to an end. With a few modern modifications, of course.

The antisol territories, unfortunately, do not happen to be a kind place to even those adapted to them (and most definitely not a long-eared woman like Odaly). Just like humans, Tougpasa need vitamin D. And just like humans, they tend to get it from sunlight. Which, of course, doesn't exist on the antisol side of the planet. As such, the Union government stated during the annexation of the Alliance's antisol lands that all inhabitants would have a relaxed schedule to prevent depression.

Despite that luxury, Odaly was still at work well after the hours of even the Twilight. She didn't have an urgent deadline to meet, but she wanted to make sure she was finished with her job well ahead of the loose date she'd been given. Flanking her on both sides were computer towers as tall as her when standing up, though they were not at all the full composition of her device. Rather, they were purely its disk drives. On her right side side there was a much newer assortment of floppy disk drives (mainly for installing and running software thanks to the quick read times) combined with various processing units in the extra space. On the other, a massive deck of datasette tape readers stood whirring away as data from her project was transferred onto them.

The first she had acquired on her own back during the war (though means very much less than legal), but the second had been given to her by the Military Sector for storing her project. Her project was a new operating system designed for use on Space Force warships, which was the reason she was storing it on datasette tapes rather than on floppy disks. Most starships were built and used during the earlier stages of the Twilight War, and as such had used datasette tapes as the floppy disk hadn't come into widespread use at the time. Rather than tear out the entire digital infrastructure of every vessel, the Military Sector instead decided to just keep using tapes.

This new operating system, however, would have support for floppy disks. As well as have support for a type of data storage device that was apparently advanced enough that the Military Sector refused to give any details beyond the basic parameters to Odaly. From the parameters, however, she had deduced that it was an impressive new piece of hardware. It had almost seven hundred times the storage capacity of even a floppy disk, with a total storage space of around 700 megabytes. And this new OS they wanted had to be able to handle the workload of an entire city's Central Unit. Odaly was, in fact, working in tandem with countless other programmers the world over to make it a reality.

But she still had no idea what it was supposed to do. Clearly, the Military Sector was planning a digital overhaul of their systems, but to what end?

An alert noise played through her headphones, and she switched her monitor to display the I/INC (International/Interplanetary Network Chat) channel that had been set up for the project. She'd programmed her computer only to alert her when she (or anything else pertaining to her share of the work) was mentioned in it.

Gisafp: Hey Odaly, Milsec sent you some architecture that they need inserted. Should be at the post office. No clue what it is, but it looks sort of like a brute-force hacking program to me.

Odaly: Why do you say that? And why would Milsec want a codebreaking program worked into the OS?

Gisafp: It's similar, not the same. They let me take a look at it and it's got some sort of trial-and-error system built in like a brute-force program. Beyond that, I've got no idea. Some of the lines of code look like they wouldn't even work on a binary computer. The program is huge, Odaly. I've never seen anything like it.

Odaly: How big is it then? I don't have much space left on my computer. It's and old Twilight War self-contained, you know.

Gisafp: They're sending it to you on multiple drives, I didn't see them but I think you're going to need to expand into another room.

Odaly: That big?

Gisafp: Just get to the post office, they've got it all ready there. And by the way, Admiral Widvurg is going to be there too.

Odaly: The Admiral?

Gisafp: Yeah, the one and only. Lucky you. Care to meet for lunch at that old speakeasy in Kelagef afterwards? I want to hear about this new program.

Odaly: Sure thing, I'll give you a call.

Odaly closed the tab and looked out the one and only window in the room, out into the almost pitch-black frozen wasteland beyond that was only illuminated by the city lights of Rofafpasub.

Well. She thought. Guess I have to go out for once.

---

No sooner had she signed for the delivery of the program (which, to her surprise, included putting down her address for "delivery and installation") than Admiral Widvurg came up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Miss Odaly?" He said, glancing at the paperwork to confirm it was her. "I'm Admiral Widvurg, the head of the Red Pulsar OS development team and the current commander of the Latch Bodefl Task Force. I'm here because you've been entrusted with the most important part of the Red Pulsar OS, and as a result you should be aware of just why we've begun its development. Here, take this."

He handed a floppy disk over to Odaly, who quickly stashed it in one of her large jacket's many pockets.

"What's on it?" She asked, ears twitching in curiosity.

"It's an explanation of the project and it's goals in full, in a standard text document. There's something else I'd like to give you, assuming you have a good place to put it."

"What is it?"

"It's a new disk drive that you'll have to keep out of sight. I have a self-contained system at home, I know how many nooks and crannies there can be. Do you think you can find some place to keep it hidden?"

"Yeah, my closet's just got the network hookup cables and an old mid-war Republican military calculator I reprogrammed. It's a good spot. Is this related to that new storage device?"

"Yes, you'll need the drive to install Milsec's new comms program. It's a big file, nothing like civilian netmail software. If you didn't use the new disk, then it'd take you a few stacks of floppies to hold. We wrote in plenty of functionality, automated end-to-end encryption, a location mask, as well as the ability to easily attach files of any type. Not to mention the capability to interface with an entirely new digital infrastructure-if you can even call it digital. We'll be using it to communicate with you from now on."

He handed over a small little disk reader-surprisingly about the same size as a floppy one-along with what looked like a tiny vinyl record that the lights of the post office glinted off of in all the colors of the rainbow.

"What's this? The new disk?"

"We're calling it a TB-SED, for Compact Disk-Read Only Memory. You're holding seven hundred megabytes."

"Why me?"

"Hm?"

"Why are you giving me all this? I'm just some chubby shut-in programmer from the former Great Republic. Why is it that I get entrusted with a new disk type, some kind of weird program that needs multiple drives, and a direct network line to Milsec personnel?"

"Because for the past month you've spent a total of about 600 hours working on our project. That's unbelievable dedication."

"I just never leave my house, Admiral. I don't code to serve some higher purpose, I code because I'm lazy and bored and it's one of the few things I can do for fun."

"If you think of yourself as lazy then that's no problem, because us higher ups can only see the numbers and they're damn good numbers. Besides, Miss Odaly, you're a programmer. The purpose of your job is to let other people be lazier than they already are. And you're good at that, because we've chosen to adopt every one of those extra little 'time saving' functions you sent in as suggestions. It's enough in my eyes to get you this sort of access, as well as some brand new IMD-8830 NBU drives."

Odaly's eyes lit up at the mention of such a powerful piece of machinery. The 8830 had been all over the tech bulletins for weeks, it was the most advanced storage drive ever built by the Tougpasa. Only Milsec had it, and the only Civsec applications that had been mentioned were the possible conversion of the massive Gestalt tower storage drives over to it in order to free up more space for processors. Never had she thought that such an impressive piece of hardware would be in her own home.

"Really? A Union Processing Machinery 8830 Hard Drive Assembly?"

"More than one. They're going in your living room, is that okay? I heard you didn't have any space in your study."

"That's fine, the radiator in that room just doesn't cut it anyhow. It'll be nice to get some more heat in there."

"Good! Now then, go get yourself a nice hot meal while the deliverymen install them."

Rova'ujuf System, Uncharted Territory

The kinetistar Megodtaf floated silently in space above the giant water-world for which the Rova'ujuf System was named. The Rova'ujuf was one of the most famous legendary creatures of Tougpasa mythos, said to have skin with the strength of steel and lurk underneath the waves in search of unsuspecting prey in the form of merchant ships. It would take their gold and goods and toss the sailors overboard into the ocean, only to retreat back into the depths with its plunder.

And the system had gained such a dramatic name because the first exploration ship to uncover it had lost a probe to some kind of squid-like creature on the water planet below, and said probe happened to be almost a crew mascot. They'd painted a face on it and everything. To think, an entire system would be named in tribute to an atmospheric probe.

The purpose of the Megodtaf's mission was to fully chart the system's major and minor bodies, including everything from gas giants to the asteroids of its debris belt. So far, they had come up with disturbing finds that actually came to lend a much darker meaning to the system's name as well as a great revelation regarding the place of the Tougpasa. The news hadn't reached home yet-kinetistars don't carry message buoys and the captain wasn't about to turn around before finishing-but it would be big when it did.

On the water planet below, half-sunken into the water, was a massive metal structure. Given its grid-like construction easily visible from orbit, it was most definitely not natural. A probe sent down revealed a great, ruined city of some civilization long since destroyed. In that system, at least. An above-water floating city on a world without land? It was the work of a colonizing species. The Tougpasa had long considered space colonization to be a way of preserving themselves. If one planet was lost somehow, the others would live on.

This system, however, revealed that there was something else out there. And if whatever had destroyed this world was still out there, then it could come for the worlds of the union as well.

And if that happened, then Milsec would need to know as much about what it might be as possible before it reared its head.

NC Ira, CIC, Four hours later, Subspace.
The trio of ships sped through the Subspace corridor in a tight wedge, the white and blue walls shooting past them. Colonel Eudorian rested in his seat, trying to relax while he could. So far, they were safe. But in ten or so minutes, that could drastically change.
Major Nazari was quite the opposite. She kept pacing around the CIC in circles, hoping they would be out soon. Subspace always sent a cold sensation through her guts. She once heard some pilots talking about hearing faint, eerie sounds, like chanting while traveling through subspace. Sound in space, right. She would believe it when she heard it herself. But looking at the alien tunnel going past the ship, she suddenly wasn’t so sure. The three ships remained in close formation, less than a thousand meters between them.

The ND Elbus was a Legionnaire-class destroyer. Although old, the Legionnaires still served well. The 170 meters long ship was originally intended as the main warship of the starfleet. However, it was surpassed by the Aurora and lately, the Starfury-class cruisers. But since several dozen of them had already been built by the time the cruisers entered service, scrapping them would have been an inexcusable waste of manpower and time. Instead, their role was changed to supporting larger ships in battle or hunting down smaller targets in groups or by themselves, assisted by their complement of four small craft. In theory, at least.

The smaller NFg Impavida, a Pathfinder-class corvette, has always been intended for long-range patrols and reconnaissance. At 120 meters, it could be considered the big sibling of the NCv Prowler-class corvettes. Though far from defenceless, it was to rely on maneuverability rather than weapons for survival. More so, its Subspace motivators were fitted with advanced heatsinks, allowing it to jump in shorter intervals than would be expected from a ship of its size. In addition, each carried a Scout-class dropship equipped with an additional sensor and communication package to provide better coverage in cases of interference, be it environmental or artificial.

Lastly, there was the NC Ira, a Starfury-class heavy cruiser, the flagship of the fleet. At 263 meters, she was the second largest ship after the Retribution line of carriers. She was one of just two Starfuries constructed, with three more ordered once their operational evaluation stage was declared successful. It was the most armored and second most expensive ship in the Narix military. With a hangar bay carrying twenty craft, currently housing four Scout dropships, four Tormentor bombers, four Marauder interceptors and eight Raider heavy fighters, it was no wonder they picked it for the job.

Eight minutes later.
The two brown dwarfs lay seemingly stationary in the center of the system. In reality, they danced around each other, forever bound together by the tethers of gravity. Besides these stars and two dwarf planets, circling the stellar duet, there was nothing interesting in the Luhman 16 system when three white and blue subspace windows formed, spitting the three-ship lance out into real space. Agrippa scrambled to the sensors officers.

“Well?” she asked after gazing over their shoulders for several minutes.
“Looks like we found ourselves a binary system here. We seem to be about 108 million kilometers from the close star. Astrogation reports two orbiting bodies visible, preliminary observation would suggest dwarf planets, but you know how confusing things are at such distances.”
The Colonel joined them. “Once their engines cool down, send the Elbus and Impavida to investigate the closer one. We’ll stay here take a look at the surrounding stars and report back home. If we’re going to invite friends, let’s make sure there is something noteworthy here. No sense bringing the rest of the expeditionary fleet into a wasteland.”

The two smaller vessels departed, leaving the Ira alone in the darkness of space. “Colonel, our coordinates have been logged. We have the node. One of our telescopes also picked up a three-star system approximately three and a half lightyears from here. It might not be anything important, but we think we’ve identified a partial pattern in the background noise. It’s gone now, but for about forty seconds, it looked like the same sequence was being repeated. It could mean someone’s out there. If so, this could have been their communication.”
“Keep looking that way and listen carefully. It could be just garbage emitted by the three stars. We’re all jumpy, for obvious reasons, let’s keep our heads between our shoulders. Did you send the message?” The officer nodded in agreement. “Good. Let the other ships know we’re going to jump to the other planet and send them the node coordinates. Navigation? Jump when ready.”

“Abe, the drive is ready.”

Pulling himself up into the central spine of the ship, Abe and several other crewmen came up into the bridge. Through weightless space that pushed themselves sailing into the scaffold and glass cone of the Secret Service's main bridge and went about taking spaces at the terminals along its edge. Michele, who had long been at her preferred spot of the ship had taken her station at a dedicated communications terminal to utility at the far end of the space ship. Her loud voice ran through the procedural moves that was ingrained among them through old careers in Federation circuits before absconding, or having become enforced by practiced comfort impressed on each other over time.

Abe took a position at a point at the furthest tip of the Secret Service. All around him was empty space. The light of the alien dwarf star they were in far orbit around shone in muted glory over distance and through tinted glass. All the same, the unblocked, unperturbed, and pure light that shone forth cast the face of the Secret Service facing it in stark reliefs of hard sharp light and deep impenetrable shadows, almost as if the ship phased itself into space itself. The wide wings of it spun leisurely through space, the wreckage of the alien vessel they had sought out, retrieving its central data storage unit – its black box – formed a sort of soft particle cloud around them, letting in the light by itself sending dancing beads of sharp shadow along the lighted portions of the craft's hull.

“Generator ready and waiting, giving the order?” Michele called out to Abe.

“Cut it.” Abe ordered, and she relayed the order. With an audible clang and loud hydraulic hiss that screeched throughout the ship the motors that kept the Secret Service were in rotation were killed. Space though being a vacuum left no resistance for the wings to slow on their own, and a steady hum filled the air as the momentum effectively sought to stall itself against the ship's axis, eventually bringing the entire thing into a gentle rotation. It wasn't much to change the level of gravity in the glass bridge, but Abe was deftly aware that the star in the distance, and the even more distant stars and constellations beyond and around him were starting a slow crawling rotation.

They'd need all the power they could, at least to prevent a short or brown out in the system. She was old like that.

“Process is completed, gravitational rotation has stopped.” Michele said. While it was technically true it wasn't so much mechanically. The far wings continued to move and at a faster rate than the central axis, which itself began moving when the generator was shut off. He nodded and looked down at his terminal for the first time.

In binary, green-on-black colors a map of the local area in the galaxy appeared and several nearby stars were within range of a warp jump. There wasn't much of a plan, and they could go to any one of them. But they did have a destination he and the crew had opted to visit on simple curious volition: a binary system that appeared to have the flicker of several planets in orbit, perhaps terrestrial.

“Do we have any last minute doubts?” Abe asked, jokingly, “Anyone want to go home, back to their mothers?”

There was a confidence-inspiring silence among the technicians present and that confirmed all he needed to hear. With the strokes of a few keys he confirmed their coordinates and set along the order for a jump of a few light-years. Minutes later the Secret Service filled with an electrical humming, followed by a pop. Abe looked out and around, as space seemed to bend away from him, like a rubber sheet with a design printed on it shapes ahead of them fell into a distorted hole. A small black dot, darker than the ambient space behind it formed and as soon as it appeared 'ripped'. Space now was distorted like a doughnut, the light of stars on either side stretched and bending into it. Even the alien sun's light and shape looked as if it was being bent into the worm hole they had carved into space.

They passed through, as seamlessly as if it were walking through a door. It wobbled a little, the quantum energy that had bent space into this loop holding out though as the Secret Service left one system, and disappeared into another. There was no sound as the hole closed behind them, and the electrical humming of the quanta generators ceased.

“Roughly seventy-two hours before we're recharged. We just crossed six-point-twenty-seven light-years.” Michele reported, for posterity's sake.

Abe mused to himself as he looked out into space and watched the debris they had dragged in with them into the new system continue their slow orbit of the Free Fairer ship. One he saw in the now new binary light was vaguely man shaped, a frozen corpse of a figure dressed in a gray-blue kimono.

“Well, here we are!” he cheered, looked towards the new suns they were in distant orbit around. At the distance they were at, the light of the two was merely an oblong dot far from them, like looking at Mars from Earth at its closest, it Mars was doubled. They had to be at its system's very edge.

Some very bright objects orbited nearby, other planets. Their light brighter and larger just enough to distinguish them as objects for sure. “Well comrades, another jump well accomplished. Let's get us in close to the stars so we can heat up and charge. We'll have some fun in the meantime.” There was excitable happy chatter among the few there as they started filing out. The Secret Service lurched again as the rotational motors kicked back in and the regular rate of gravity was restored. No warnings sounded, no sirens flared. So all was in the green.

Kagayakuminohōseki, Ōshanshitaderu



Ōshanshitaderu was a jewel along the ocean floor. A marvel of Zian engineering, in Ikari's professional opinion. He should know after all-he'd taken some time, in his two centuries to make a study of the finer points of architectural engineering. Indeed. It had become his profession. The complex on the surface was just a taste, he reflected, as he strode through the warrens that made up the true fabric of the city. Honeycombed into the ocean floor beneath the surface structures, powered by deep-ground geothermal lava flows and supplied by farms along the ocean surface, the true city thrived in the underground.

There was something heady to it, the Zian man thought, as he weaved past another pack of younger males-doing as younger males were wont to do...which is to say, grope each other, yell loudly, and fight. Sometimes all three at the same time. The captain barely raised a brow when one of the younger men tumbled into his path, and climbed up, cheeks red with laughter. In moments, the lad was back in the embrace of the group. He couldn't tell if this pack had been deployed or not-the behavior wasn't a tell, it usually took some time for the new recruits to calm down.

Mature.

But the idle question was swept away as Ikari continued further downwards, deeper into the heart of the city. The young, rowdy group of males was soon forgotten, and his mind wandered back to thoughts of architecture. Natural, he supposed. This was a unique city. One that captured the imagination. In his mind's eye, he could even see the layout of the section he was currently traversing, sketched by old instinct.



This was one of the main hab-blocks. And if it weren't for the off-hour, he'd have encountered more then that brief press of young male bodies-the streets and parkways would have been choked with men, scurrying to meetings, work assignments, training or any other number of things. He was certain more then a few mating duels were occurring within the city. They always were. More then a few recreational ones too. If that gaggle of men had been any indication.

Eyeing the glass windows that surrounded the sides of the complex, as he continued downwards-trailing from the hard metal path to feel the grass upon his sandaled feet, Ikari reflected that, more then it's unique architecture, this city also reflected a unique way of living. He could never get used to such an open style of living-at least one part of one's room. Open at all times to observation from the outside. Inevitable, if one wanted the source of light the center of the complex provided. So close to natural sunlight.

But still.

A trail of goosebumps worked there way up Ikari's neck. He did not like to be watched by prying eyes. He barely tolerated it when the man he wished to mate did it-he wouldn't tolerate it from strangers. Certainly.

The blue-haired male sighed, and moved a lock of hair back into place as he did so. Granted. For this current meeting. It was going to be inevitable. Distract himself as he might. He was going to be picked apart by security for a good three hours. At least. Being called in to advise the Shogun and generals and admirals of the empire on matters like colony design and station lay out was an honor. Particularly when the challenges offered were so vast.

Particularly when a new expansion was being considered. A new colony. A new grand undertaking for the Empire. Another drive to re-forge the Empire of the ancients. To fulfill that ancient dream. The purpose of the Empire. His chest, of course, filled with pride at the thought. As was proper....

But...

As he reached twentieth level of the complex, and spied the white armor of the Imperial Warriors that made up the security details for the outermost part of the chambers laid aside....it didn't make the coming security nightmare any easier.

Ikari fidgeted. Hesitated.

Then forced a sandled foot forward. Best to grin and bear it.

In memoriam
Bhut hurota brukah elen bhut hakan. - Temple teaching

Kalus leaned against the railing, peering down at the vast city stretching out below him. The quiet burbling of water, emanating from the raised aqueducts running nearby, filled the otherwise-quiet air. Gardens and parks were scattered throughout the city, and planters filled with all manner of beautiful flowers were built into the edges of the aqueducts, many of them somewhat overflowing, with cascades of colorful vines spilling over the edges. The city had begun built on the edge of the ocean, and had eventually begun to expand into it; beautiful structures rose out the water and many were connected under water by tunnels and above water by bridges and aqueducts that transported clean water through the cities many plants and gardens, drawn from the sea and filtered by a number of treatment facilities.

Separate treatment facilities handled the drinking water which was transported by underground piping instead. In truth the aqueducts were an aesthetic choice rather than a truly functional one, although some hid piping inside that transported the drinking water between buildings in the Aqua District.

Kalus breathed it in before looking across to Zuruniac. He'd known her for a few weeks at most, a disaster had claimed her parents and he was her nearest relative. She was a distant and it showed. His family had Raver heritage but while his grand parents had moved away from Raver and all but forsaken it, his great uncles family had remained. Zuruniac was very much a Raver girl, immersed in its culture since birth while Kalus a Techseer of the Order of the Book and bore only his hides colour as sign of his ancestry.

Bound by blood and little else. Yet, it was in both their cultures for family to look out for each other and so here they were.

"It's so beautiful. Different to- to what I expected." Zuruniac said at last, placing her half drained glass on the table and approaching the railing

"What were you expecting?" Kalus asked, glancing over to her

"Just... Concrete titans. Lifeless, scarring the sky. But it's beautiful." Zuruniac paused for a moment before continuing "Though, I feel surrounded. There are so many people."

"What is your town like, Zuruniac?" Kalus said in a stilted manner and instantly cursed himself for it. The girl seemed to shrink away again and answered quietly

"Small but vibrant. Alive." Zuruniac looked up to him slowly, cautiously "Will I ever see it again?"

"Of course. Once you are done with this year's instruction, perhaps we shall visit it. I have some money spare." Kalus looked back out over the city and although he was not looking at her, he could tell Zuruniac had grimaced.

His communicator buzzed in his pocket. A thousand hells awaited his apprentices, apparently he could not even have a day of rest without one of them losing something and needing his help. He sighed heavily before taking it out and activating it.

Your presence is required. My apologies but it is urgent. The reliquary has unlocked. Come with haste.

Kalus eyes widened in surprise and he turned to the door, speaking quickly to Zuruniac as he quickly packed his back "I don't know how long I'll be gone, I trust you can cook without starting a fire."

Temple Ship of Garen-Badu, Inner Sanctum

Luk ji minkun kotun gous nakun nerehanun sumeso zujah sivi darilis, eris munuhan yun brukah elen yun fusirin hut dun alak ner ghut. - On the Traitor Tribe, Chapter 4, Holy Perseverance of Kulan-Mylin

The Temple Ship had dropped out of warp space in system, a short sunlight journey away from their destination. The colonists watched the observation screens as they laid eyes on their new home.

Or so Garen-Badu imagined as he sat in his sanctum, writing the first entry to the log he would use to document the world's development. He was the newest of the Adabhutay and had eagerly leapt at the chance to seed a new world.

He heard the door to his sanctum slide open and someone enter behind him.

"My lord? We have not arrived - there has an unexpected complication." The young commander said. Garen-Badu stopped writing as his heart sank. He wiped the entry to his log with a long sigh and turned to face Arlok; he was a soft faced and rather unassuming compared to his more experienced peers but Garen-Badu had chosen him to lead nonetheless. He saw something in the young soldier, but what it was even he could not say.

"A complication? I am aware our data was somewhat incomplete, is the world not capable of sustaining life? Are we returning home?"

"No, lord Garen-Badu. We have detected a nearby craft of alien origin, trawling through a nearby system - specifically they are currently holding orbit above an aquatic world, more than that we cannot say for sure." Arlok replied. Garen-Badu's crestfallen look vanished and his eyes lit up at the prospect of contacting a sentient alien species. "We thought you might want us to divert and attempt to establish communication."

"Your foresight serves you well. Send them the prime numbers. If they are interested in speaking with us, they will likely respond in kind. If not, we will hold until our drives can make another jump. Set a course for that system. I shall join you shortly." Garen-Badu said. Arlok gave a short bow and spun in place, leaving Garen-Badu to his own devices. Garen-Badu raised his hand, the sleeve of his robe falling to reveal the metallic gauntlet that covered his wrist and hand. The fruit from his plate rose into the air and soared towards him, landing perfectly in his grasp. He raised it to his lips and took a bite out of it, savouring the taste.

What a time to be a god.

Temple Ship of Garen-Badu, Control Chambers

Garen-Badu strode through the doors and into the control room, glancing around to the various officers. Arlok turned and approached him, bowing to him before speaking

"We're approaching system. I've commenced a scan of the alien vessel and can confirm it is armed with kinetic weaponry and missiles. I believe it to be a military vessel and while I don't doubt our weapons would be able to put it down should it prove hostile, it's weaponry may be capable of inflicting severe damage. Shall we continue with contact?"

"Indeed. Friend or foe, they will come and we shall know. We may have need of another jump, vent as much heat from the drives as you can." Garen-Badu replied. He glanced around the control room, checking over his crew; The communications officer tapped a series of commands into his terminal. One ping, two ping, three ping, five ping, seven pings and so on up to ninety seven. An intelligent species would surely find some way to respond in kind.

"Done, my lord. We are awaiting response." The Communications Officer replied in his sing-song voice. It was unusually high pitched for a male Cholokah'zu, courtesy of some chronic disease as Garen-Badu understood.

"May it come quick." Arlok grunted.

"The drives are cooling but we lack sufficient coolant. It will be several minutes before we are able to safely jump." The Techseer Prime noted as he glanced over to Arlok and Garen-Badu. The techseer had not approved of Arloks decision to reduce the amount of coolant the ship was carrying in favour of terraforming resources and his dissatisfaction was evident in his tone.

Somewhere in space

Anai’a Lilili Kirrisesh held its court at the center of the Ivrosi Remnant. It was here, carefully held in place by a lattice of their progeny, that the eldest and very youngest of sprites were maintained, carefully nurtured by the rest of the colony.

Anai’a certainly fit that bill – its whisper-thin carbon mantle, its edges nearly nonexistent from millennia of erosion by the sun, spread out around it nearly a meter in diameter. Its body was especially large, as well, being nearly twelve centimeters long and vaguely egg-shaped. Several dozen newly-sprouted sprites clung inside the inner folds of the elder’s mantle, their underdeveloped grippers not yet strong enough to hold them into the colony’s formation. It was clear this sprite had been around for an absurdly long time.

Anai’a itself could remember precisely when it was sprouted. 2567 IE, according to the calendar of the Ivrosans. It so clearly remembered the giggling, squealing Ivrosan child who had gently detached it from its parent’s spore depositor and cradled it in its tentac¬les. At the time Anai’a had not understood the language, but eventually it understood those sounds to be its name. “Lilili”. A silly sound, perhaps, but one that it still treasured and carried with it after all these hundreds of millennia. Lai had been a good caretaker – had been gentle, and sweet, and did not object to sharing her memories with its new spriteling.

Anai’a had been by Lai’s side as the Ivrosan child had grown into an adult, and had helped its mistress raise her own family, and remained loyal to the family even after her mistress Lai had gone on to the void. She became their governess – it was not uncommon, in Ivrosan society, for those of affluent enough means to have acquired a spriteling (the infants were viewed as a sort of an exotic pet, though they were wary of the adults for the neurotoxin that could have at any point been injected into their bodies if the sprite should have ever gotten tired of them) and kept it loyal to the family, to maintain them after their initial owner’s passing as a sort of “governess” for the children and grandchildren and all the progeny.

The elder stretched its tentacles, shivering slightly as it brought itself back to the present at the touch of one of its many, many offspring. It’s an arduous task, to sift through so many memories to return to the present, but the offspring are usually patient, reverent to their elder’s plight. This one is tugging excitedly, however, and Anai’a blearily struggles to open the communication with it, barely having a moment to collect itself before frantic streams of raw visual data are dumped into its head. The foremost edge of the sail has encountered relatively high concentrations of water molecules, and the concentrations are increasing. This means they must be entering near the orbit of a planet with liquid water.

There is more news, too – traces of ozone and various highly-unstable radioactive isotopes that are characteristic of the violent tearing of space-time that so many peoples alleged faster-than-light travel used. It really was misleading – they were simply moving at the speed of light through a shortened distance of travel, with the apparent result of having gone further in less time than the speed of light would maintain possible. Simple mechanics, after all.

Another sharp tug pulled the elder from speculation once again. There was ozone, which meant ships, which meant other sentient races. Which meant a diplomatic situation. The tiny sprites that curled under Anai’a’s mantle began to buzz with excitement, wondering if any of them were to be chosen to take their names today.

But before that could be done, certain orders had to be given. The colony was ordered to collapse into a tightly-packed sphere, done sequentially to give a decelerating effect on the sprites and bring them to gently drift in the vague region where the ships have been triangulated to be.

A humming excitement settles over the sprites as they go about their business, relaying commands at the brush of a tentacle. Though they are not so foolish to hope their intragalactic pilgrimage might be complete, they are excited by the prospect of new knowledge, new memories, and new alliances.

@darkwolf687 @keyguyperson

Abe leaned up against one of the computer terminals scattered throughout the ship, staring down at the live feed of data that was coming in on the planets as it was organized and compiled by the men in charge of preliminary atmospheric and surface scans of alien worlds. Atmospheric scans were typically the faster and after a short time a consistent profile of the planet's atmosphere and normal attitudes was sussed out. Over the continuing course of scanning they'd get enough data to know how the weather works, whether the world was prone to rainstorms or had a generally tame atmospheric temperament.

What took them longer were surface scans, mapping out the depths of oceans and bodies of water, ground-level conditions, geography and geology, and a rough idea on density. The last bit was tricky, but over several adventures through unexplored systems getting the option to gaze into the core of a planet through scanning over the mouth of a volcanic location in tandem with measuring out the diameter of the planet fed into rough equations that let them get a baseline of gravitational strength. The equation was further worked over by sussing out the gravitational field of the planet itself while orbiting it and measuring their distance of their orbit of the alien world and getting a rate of decay of the orbit, provided they can manage a consistent entry into the planet's proximity. Among other options, the last in their arsenal of methods is landing to drill a deep core or the planet's crust and examining the density of the soil and rock core when it comes out.

There was a frightening incident in such a case as that when the drilling rig broke early into a cave and collapsed an area the size of several city blocks. The planet as it turned out later was like a giant sponge, its significant size created more or less by large and ancient caves created by expanding vapors from old magma chambers that had pushed the rock, escaped, cooled and left large air pockets, and then filled over thousands of years with debris.

No one wanted that again, and if they were again in doubt of their safety landing they all agreed to strike the planet with some large chunk of metal to see what sort of crater it leaves.

So far they weren't having that misfortune again. Working their way from the outside of the system they had hop-scotched from moon to moon and planet. Many of the worlds weren't exactly conducive to a safe exploratory landing, or even to land to fuck around. They were either so frigidly cold and moist that anything they land would freeze and choke with ice. Or they were volcanic and hot and filled with toxic vaporous clouds of methane and sulfur-dioxide. Or they were great chunks of shifting ice, one of which had totally changed by the time one scan was done and they were well into a fourth before they realized they had scanned that planet; its surface had just changed dramatically.

To be fair, that one was close to an enormous blue gas giant.

As they had drawn closer towards the center of the system and its twin stars caught in a precise ballet the worlds became much more favorable. Both of the latest they checked in on were vaguely Earth-sized, one thirteen percent larger than (most of) the crew's ancestral home and the other near seventy-eight percent Earth's size. The larger had a denser atmosphere though, filled with sulfurous gasses and a windy desert surface, there was water; but much of it appeared to suffer the misfortune of being in the vicinity of geologically active sites and from Space even they could look down from cameras and see a great sea of rainbow colors framing a giant gaping black hole that poured hot steam.

The other was more amenable to visitation so far as the last scan finished. Any closer and they knew they'd be getting too close to the still distant twin-star system. The planet was mostly all water, but was strangely shallow. The surface an odd mixture of silicon and gypsum sands with some lime deposits scattered throughout. Nearly 99% of the planet was covered in water as shallow as ankle depth to what the scanning instruments reported to be maximum ocean depths of just over a mile. Recent volcanic activity was pushing up new black islands that turned the current-made ribbons of white-sandy whips of land that wrapped around the island into one long rosary of black beads. The poles were cold, without saying and were frozen over.

There was a polite chime from the terminal and a message was posted alongside the information, a sort of forum space for the crew. It was by one of the science members.

“I think we should visit. Break out the buggies.” it read. The name tag said it had been posted by Double-W.

Abraham thought about it and reached for the keyboard, posting his compliance with the suggestion, “Worth it, a tropical get away would be nice. Would be up for margaritas if everyone's game.”

He posted it and left it at that. It'd take an hour or more for the rest of the crew to notice and toss their weight in. As he put away the keyboard he turned and his heart skipped a beat when he saw the alien human - Tsimatsu – was standing in the door watching him. He didn't think he showed any surprise outwardly, and a relative calm settled back over him.

“Good afternoon.” Abe greeted him. Really time was irrelevant, since it was all relative.

Tsimatsu didn't return the expression, Abe realized probably because he didn't know how to answer. Instead the Ziani gave him a quizzical expression before shaking himself loose. “I wanted to ask you a question.” he said. Abe noticed the sides of his face and neck was looking a little red.

“Shoot.” Abe invited. Another quizzical look from Ziani forced Abe to reiterate, “Go ahead, ask.”

“If I wanted, if it was needed, how would you guys go about contacting my home?” Tsimatsu asked.

Abe thought for a second, scratching the side of his head. “Generally, the Fairers haven't had to deal directly with any other parties, save for among ourselves. If any of us had any dealings, it's been on a ship-by-ship basis; so if you want to go home we'd have to be the ones to take you there.”

“Right...” Tsimatsu said, nervously.

“You think that'd be putting us in danger?”

“Truth be told it might be all of us.” Tsimatsu said, “But I don't know; likely. I'm just an engineer really. I mean: I can fight but I mostly did engineering work. But I'm still thought of as a soldier.”

Abe nodded, he understood. “So you're afraid they might treat you as a defector?”

Tsimatsu nodded, “It's likely.”

“So if you want to go home, you're wondering if we have intermediaries?”

Tsimatsu nodded again.

“Right.” Abe said, and he thought for a moment, “Well we do have one man that was sort of elected to the position. He used to deal directly with other larger groups on behalf of Fairer interests, namely setting boundaries to keep us and them apart. His name was Cardinal.”

“So you have a man?” Tsimatsu said with excitement, a rather dour demeanor soon changed to a sort of hesitatant excitement. It was amazingly quick, even per Abe's expectations; he recoiled out of surprise.

“Well yes, but there's a problem.” he told him, Tsimatsu's excitement quickly dampened, “He went missing.” Abe added.

There was a brief moment of tense silence between the two of them. “Some time ago I heard he was on the trail of something and planet hoping looking for it.” Abe explained, “We Fairers have a communications system that stretched pretty far, it's pretty well encrypted too but that's besides the point. The point being that for a while he had been posting regular updates and leaving us a bread trail and updating our community as a whole on his journey. Then all of a sudden: he stopped.”

“I see.” Tsimatsu dourly mumbled.

“So we can't really do anything if he's gone. I could probe around to see if we can locate an intermediary captain if you want...”

Abe trailed off as Tsimatsu interjected, “No, that will be fine.” his mood shifted suddenly to defeatism and he looked down at his bare feet, “I'll think about it.”

Abe conceded, and raised a new point, “You are aware you're breaking out in some kind of rash, right?” he asked with unbridled concern.

Tsimatsu fumbled, “I've- uh- been itching.”

“I'm going to have to exercise some authority here, we need to get you back to medical and you need to let them do a thorough once over. Let's go.” Abe's tone dropped considerably. Taking on for once an authoritative posture he lead the anxious Zaini out and towards medical.

WrongEndoftheRainbow & Starlance

Uncharted system, NC Ira
A crewman arrived to the bridge, still panting for breath.
“Colonel? The Elbus found another jump point! They can’t say where it leads, but is stable enough for transit.”
“I assume they sent the coordinates?”
The crewman handed him a sheet of paper with basic information regarding the node.
“Send word back home, three ships are not going to cut it. We still have this system to go through, plus that odd signal we picked up earlier. Get two more frigates in here. Tell one of them to prepare for another long jump.”

Seven hours later, NFg Aggeris
The blue-white tunnel came to an end, enveloping the frigate in white light before throwing it out into normal space. Proximity alerts went off immediately as the crew regained their bearings.
“Asteroid field!” the helmsman cried out, turning the ship away from the largest rocks. CIWS sprung into action, tearing the closest small rocks into dust. After two terrifying minutes, the jump drives cooled down enough to enable a short jump. The subspace window swallowed the frigate and spat it out several hundred kilometers closer to the star, in orbit of a gas giant.
“Well?” the young commander asked. “How’s the hull?”
“It has been better. Although the close-in weapon systems held up quite well, we’ve eaten several of them before they came online. The hangar has a hole in it, we’ve lost port aft water tank and two RCS thrusters. The rest of the hull is just scratched and dented, but it may be a structural weakness in the long run.”
“Have DC crews patch up the hangar and make sure the door works. Check the Scout, if that breaks down, I want to know before we send it out. Now, where are we?”
“We already know there’s an asteroid belt, so there’s potential for a resource operation. Sensor sweep underway. It looks like an old system. The star seems quite cold. Four planets, two big ones, two smaller. Looks like gas giants on the outside, the belt between them.” the sensor officer paused, a puzzled expression appearing on his face. “We… wait. We have something small orbiting the second planet.”

The frigate left the giant’s shadow, a view of the system opening before them. A star, two planets, two gas giants and a lethal asteroid belt. The frigate’s crew watched the second planet in astonishment as they made out lights on its dark side. With some difficulty, astrogation deck confirmed an artificial satellite orbiting the planet.
“Approach carefully. Take it slow, no subspace, but have the drive ready in case we found some xenophobes. Although gazing upon another clearly inhabited planet… I can’t say I would be passive if we suddenly found an alien ship in our system.”
The frigate’s engines burned, slowing its speed, sending it towards the inhabited planet.

Gais, Narrev, 25 Mile Radio Dish Array

“What do you make of that?” asked Keail, one of the researchers at the radio dish array, to their fellow researchers. They hailed from universities all over the first world. There was a murmur across the room, as they recieved the radio transmissions. They were clearly not intended for the array, but they very well seemed deliberate.

“Are you sure you’re receiving that right? Maybe it’s some kind of prank?” one of the researchers questioned. Keail nodded. “Maybe it’s another Cantor satellite? They don’t exactly tell us about those.”
“I think we’d recognize what they’re trying to say if that was the case. This seems more like structured gibberish,” another researcher commented.
“This has to be some kind of prank,” Keail concluded, “but I’ll keep an eye on it.”

Gais high orbit, NFg Aggeris
“Indeed. That is a satellite, we can see it more clearly now.” The navigator pointed at the screen. “It looks… ancient, by our standards. Pre-unification at best. Are we sure it’s not just one of our probes and the lights aren’t just light refracting in the atmosphere?”
“Definitely not. Well, what can we do now? Send the first contact package.”
“Than what?”
“We wait and hope they can decypher it.”
The communications officer prepared the data package. It contained Narix alphabet and basics of their language, intended to help other species decrypt their language, albeit its simplified form.
“Sure, we found a satellite and some lights on a piece of rock, but of course they’ll learn our language within our lifetime, let alone a few hours.” the officer murmured as he started transmitting the package through all radio frequencies the Narix used.
“Now we wait. In the meantime, start composing a message for the folks back home, but do not send it yet. If we get to talk to aliens today, the first thing command would do is send half the first fleet here and I don’t think our nextdoor neighbours would take too kindly to that.”

Gais, Narrev, 25 Mile Radio Dish Array
“Oh shit, oh shit. That’s definitely deliberate. Were you recording that? Tell me you were recording that. Get the National Defense Committee on the line,” rambled Keail, writing notes frantically. A collective unrest filled the room as the researchers began to get to work. They went to and fro, each doing their own work. Meanwhile, somebody called up the NDC. The researchers, as part of their tenure at the facility, answered to the NDC.

It didn’t take long for the government to arrive. NDC representatives and generals soon arrived at the facility. They watched over the researchers, when one of the token language experts on the team spoke up, saying, “I think I know what this is. This is definitely an alphabet. I think this may be a primer on a language, give me a few hours!”

The room filled with excitement, as researchers continued their respective duties. Meanwhile, more and more of the National Defense Committee showed up, bringing more and more of the military with them. One of the generals pulled aside the linguistics expert, “Make it snappy, the president is waiting for a report.”

More and more people continued to show up at the facility. A forward operating base was set up. Locals were restricted from the area. They brought in a team of linguistics experts, and various other people that were the finest they could find. They worked together with the original researchers, until finally they decoded the basics of the language.

A packet of information was prepared. The president of the Federated States approved a return message. It had taken two days, two days of little sleep, most of it on-site, but they had figured it out. The return message was sent.

“This is the Federated States of Narrev. We understand you. Meet us at the origin point of this message. Do not land anywhere else or we will be forced to take action.”

Gais high orbit, NFg Aggeris
The Aggeris has been floating in space for days. Some crew members already gave up hope. It was the more infuriating because proof of life was within an arm’s reach, by interstellar standards. And yet, it’s been two days since they stopped transmitting the first contact loop.

The CIC was calm. The navigation officer had fallen asleep at his station. The XO sat in his chair, reading a book. Only the commander and communication officer were vigilant, although skeptical. That all changed when a light started blinking on the electronic warfare panel, letting the crew know of an intercepted transmission.

The communication officer perked up, staring at the light in disbelief. “Whoa, what?” he muttered sheepishly. He checked several times before he answered the commander’s questions. “They heard it. We have a return message.” he routed it to the PA speaker in the CIC. That woke everyone up.
“They say they understand. Let us see. Ask them for atmospheric density, composition, gravity and weather, if they can. Tell them we will send a shuttle if the conditions are suitable. Of course, I don’t expect to make sense of whatever units they measure it in, but it’s a start. Also, prepare the Scout, a team of marines and update the message to home. Await their response. Second in command, take the ship, I’ll be going down with the shuttle.”

It took a few minutes, but a response soon came from planetside. The units were in their native measurements, so of course it didn’t make any sense, but they did come with practical examples as well. While the practical examples weren’t airtight and precise, they gave an idea of a fairly earthlike planet.

“Scout pilots say it’s good enough to provide lift. Good, it will save up fuel. IR and radar countermeasures are loaded, radio wave absorbent paint is undamaged. That rock we hugged two days ago was apparently fairly soft and disintegrated on impact. Gravity will take some getting used to, it’s about two thirds of Naris. Pressure is good, but we can’t say if it’s breathable or not, so we’ll most likely stay buttoned up until we get a better idea. The Scout is fueled up and ready to go.”

Gais, Narrev, 25 Mile Radio Dish Array
The black shuttle plummeted through the atmosphere, heading for the designated position at over four kilometers above ground level. Once they came close, the pilots cut throttles to minimum, slowing the shuttle below the speed of sound and circled the research station, looking for a suitable landing site. The pilot engaged the VTOL thrusters and set the ship down, the rear ramp facing the complex. The marines prepared themselves to be met with large numbers of hostile soldiers and the pilots were ready to close the ramp and lift off at a moment’s notice. One deep breath later, they opened the ramp and two marines, clad in black suits with exoskeletons over them to enhance their strength, carefully exited the shuttle.

The military frequency was alight with chatter as the shuttle was spotted. The FOB was set up like a spiderweb around the facility, camo netting, tents, and various other equipment scattered all about. There were plenty of soldiers, Staius carrying rifles that looked positively ancient by the marine’s standards. None of them opened fire, however, and one of the generals, flanked by a column of infantry, began to walk towards the shuttle, with a language attaché by his side.

“Contact, dead astern. Lost of them!”
“Not just astern, all around.”
“Trouble?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Hold fire, whatever you do, do NOT raise your weapons unless something evil is pointing at you.”
The shuttle erupted with quiet chatter. Flanked by four men, visors dimmed, the Captain slowly set out and walked towards the approaching group. Most of them soldiers, he guessed, two looked different. He took time to look around. If things were to take the worst possible course of action, he took comfort in the fact the planet that would be his final resting place was at least a beautiful one.

He stopped about fifty meters from the ship and waited for the natives to come closer. If things went wrong, they could get back to the ship quickly, despite the gravity making him unsure in his step.

The natives continued to get closer, eventually stopping a fair talking distance away. The general spoke, though his language was indiscernible, and then the language attaché spoke too. This was much more understandable, if a bit rough, “We are the Staius. Who are you? Why are you here?”

The captain took a second to compose himself and then spoke, loudly, slowly and avoided complex words. “I am captain Daratar, commanding officer of the Aggeris, the vessel outside your atmosphere. We are members of the Narix Republic. We found your world accidentally while we were exploring the surroundings of our home.” He chose his words carefully, avoiding anything that would mention intersystem travel.

The general was about to speak again, when suddenly, behind them, a mobile SAM truck launched a missile far into the air. It was clearly not pointed at the shuttle or the aliens, but at something else instead. Soon, more missiles were launched.

It was not enough.

The area surrounding the shuttle lit up in a blaze of fire as missiles hit the FOB and the facility, though none explicitly hit the shuttle. All the Staius dived for cover, as gunfire sounded off in the distance. Within moments, the battle itself was met at the edge of the FOB, as a United Dumas attack force stationed within a neighboring country -- the array itself placed right at the edge of the land border -- had moved in.

The column of infantry behind the general moved into action, forming a protective wall around the general.

Some of the Narix soldiers watched the missile soar through the air. “What? A gun salute?” Soon, it was clear this was not under control. Projectiles, either cruise missiles or long-range artillery, hammered the base, sending dirt and debris flying through the air. The soldiers jumped to the ground and tried to get a general idea what was going on.
“Get away from the shuttle, scatter!” the squad leader shouted at his men who rushed out and sought cover in ditches and wherever provided at least some protection.
“Stay out of this, this is not our fight!” The captain called over short range radio, hoping their communication wasn’t jamming or otherwise interfering with something. As far as he could see, it looked like a different faction attacked those they established contact with. Have they landed in the middle of a war? The only thing that comforted him a little was knowledge the locals were able to contact his ship should they lose the dropship.

The battle was met, and the general was moved out of the vicinity. More soldiers flooded in from the rest of the FOB, but it was clearly evident that it wasn’t enough. Confusion ran rampant in the ranks, until a general retreat was called by the Federated States. The United Dumas battleforce continued to push inwards, with mechanized infantry and even minor armor support. They began to move towards the shuttle, United Dumas soldiers sprinting toward the ramp as the rest of the battleforce gave them cover.

The Narix saw the situation was getting grim. The other force, now approaching the shuttle, was closer than the Captain expected. His soldiers rose up and formed a semicircle between the shuttle and the unknown attackers. The captain activated his voice amplifier.
“We have no quarrel with you! Do NOT approach the ship or we will fire!” He did not think they would understand, but what more could he do? How to defend their lives and ship with just ten men and two pilots AND remain neutral? He expected a lot of different things, but not facing a small invasion force.

As suspected, they did not understand the aliens. They opened fire, as several of the shells seemed to randomly drop to the floor, limp. A tank even took it to themselves to open fire on the shuttle, an APDS round slamming into the side of the shuttle. The machine guns on the armored personnel carriers and top of the tanks also opened fire.

The APDS round punched clean through the side and torched the shuttle’s rear bay. The soldiers opened fire, their weapons sending pointed projectiles toward their targets at 1100 meters per second. But with all of their anti tank equipment, three rockets and two launchers, destroyed when the shuttle was hit, all resistance was futile. The only thing the Captain could hope for was the Aggeris. They would know something went wrong when they fail to return. They would bring more backup and the perpetrators of this attack would be dealt with. That was all he could hope for in his rage. With their only way to safety lost, their only option was to take as many as possible with them to their graves. The soldiers couldn’t do much before the machine guns and shrapnels found their way through the suits. One by one they fell. The captain’s last deed was a desperate attempt to link his suit with the shuttle and detonate the ordnance, but he was stopped by a bullet that tore through his suit, taking a chunk of his throat with it. Two minutes later, no Narix stood.

A counterattack by the Federated States was still too far away when the Narix fell. The battleforce stormed the shuttle, making quick work of the pilots, as the shells that had previously fallen randomly got back up, their electron brains returning. They attached the shuttle to an APC and loaded the fallen Narix inside, and began to drive away from the battlesite, making sure to leave a token occupation force to destroy the array entirely.

The Narrev counterattack made short work of the token occupation force, but by that time the shuttle and the bodies of the Narix were long gone. They soon relayed this to central command, who ordered a retaliation. It rapidly escalated from there, until fronts across the world had been opened up between the two sides. No nuclear ordnance had begun to fly, but open warfare was established.

When no contact has been established for a full day, the Narix knew something was wrong. A message detailing the known incident, from arrival to the shuttle’s departure, has been sent to Naris. Beyond that, everyone was in the dark. Unsure of the strength, allegiance of the hostile forces or if there even was a hostile presence, Narix military command dispatched a Retribution-class carrier, aided by two destroyers to the system between naris and the Gais system, and one of the destroyers, equipped with four marauder-class interceptors outfitted for reconnaissance, was sent in advance to learn more about the situation.

During that time, the Aggeris continued its attempts to contact both the lost shuttle and the unknown species, hoping to get more information and get a clearer picture of their situation. Eventually they did make contact, in the form of the astronaut returning from the moon. They had shuffled his orbit around until he was slingshotted right to the Narix’s ship’s position, where he pinged them with the radio.

“New message, sir! It’s close by, just a few hundred meters from us.”
The acting captain was furious. He stormed over to the console and started with in an angry voice.
“Would someone explain what is going on? We still haven’t made contact with our men. What happened, and think twice before you speak!” He didn’t know if he had been wrong to shout like this. For all he knew, the shuttle crashed on the planet. But why would the other side keep quiet?

The astronaut did not respond, but instead acted as a conduit between the ground and the shuttle. “This is Reaul control. The United Dumas attacked the landing site. The status of your men is unknown. We are working towards a recovery, but multiple open fronts have stalled such efforts. We simply can’t afford to plot an incursion to locate your men.”

The news struck hard. Not only were their comrades missing, but an attack on them meant something worse. Almost ninety years after the Unification War, the Narix people were once again thrown into war. This time, they did not fight each other. The enemy was unknown. Their strength, tactics, or ethics. It wasn’t the acting captain’s place to decide the next course of action. When he spoke again, fury was still present in his voice, albeit drowned out by sorrow.
“We want a map of this… United Dumas, or whatever is the empire called. Their borders and cities marked and whatever you can tell us about them.” He was overstepping the boundaries of his authority and logic itself, but just couldn’t help himself. “I am also letting you know that this is an act of war, and we will respond accordingly.” Tomorrow, 132 fighters would be present in this system. Predators, ready to pounce those that dared attack a peaceful mission. “Our forces will be able to provide assistance, but we cannot act in cooperation with you unless our assistance is requested. If it is not, we will take action on our own. I would once again caution you not to attack any Narix craft.” His anger was washed away by now, and the soldier within his mind took control again. There was no way they would be able to deploy all of their fighters, not for atmospheric operations, but the number itself could be a weapon too.

“Full copy on all, we will transfer maps to your ship. We will also pass along suspected locations of Duma missile silos. If we are to survive this war, they will need to be disabled before they can be used.” Reaul command returned.

The Narix Carrier was flanked by the two destroyers and the Aggeris, which was covered in construction scaffolding. Engineers in EVA suits were repairing the damage. One of them looked toward the carrier’s hangar just in time to see two pairs of marauders heading for the planet. The fighters had thick, stubby wings that generated lift in the atmosphere and served as radiators in space. More importantly, they served as hardpoints for the fighter’s primary weapons.These have been stripped, leaving only two rapid fire railguns for self defense. Below the fighter, where missiles were usually stored, was an aerodynamic case containing cameras, additional ladar set and radio jammers. They were going to scout the silo sites the natives have provided. More flights such as these were scheduled to launch soon. Risky to send so few fighters on a first mission. The commanders hoped it’s shape, radar-absorbent materials and shielded exhausts would be enough to fool the defenders. If not, there would be even more missing soldiers. Once targets were positively identified, larger groups of Raider-class heavy fighters equipped for CAS would be sent to strike at their enemy. An enemy unknown, yet already hated. News have been going only on deliberately leaked information. Not lies, merely incomplete information, was enough to get the public support. If the technological advantage proved sufficient, this war could be fought with very few resources expended. If not, they would have to land. And that would be very expensive, especially when it comes to lives.

The Carrier’s commander was unaware of any peace talks or planned cooperation with allied parties. If such plans were in the making, he would be told when he needed to know. Sure enough, however, many of the sites provided by the Federated States proved to have silos, though plenty proved to have nothing of interest nearby. However, the scout vehicles were soon pursued by Duma jet fighters, who launched missiles at the Narix ships.

“Red leader, spiked, seven o’clock.”
“Red two, break left, missile in the air!”
The pilot reacted quickly, launching flares and strips of aluminium foil to confuse the enemy radars. His number two, although a seasoned pilot, had little experience with atmospheric fighting. The missile struck the fighter, sending it tumbling down in two pieces. The other fighter turned to face their attackers and fired a short burst before he engaged boosters and climbed away from his pursuers. He would have to be picked up by a recovery craft later.

“It is clear that the enemy knows how to counter our stealth fighters. Their ordnance is also powerful enough to catch up to, hit and destroy a Marauder interceptor. It looks like both sides just lost their trump card. They showed us they can hit us and we showed ourselves to them.” The grim-faced Carrier commander said, overlooking the squadron leaders. “I have therefore asked for three squadrons of atmospheric bombers. They can carry much heavier ordnance and can be refitted to EW craft. Assuming the enemy is using radar to track us, we will be able to jam them. BUT, they are likely to possess similar technology.”
“Meaning we are stuck in an endless loop. We jam them, they jam our jammers, so we deploy more jammers to-”
“Yes.” the squadron leader was cut off by the commander. “We hope to break them by striking in unexpected places. Throw them off balance so the locals can fight their war. We are here to see what happened to our people and technology and to make sure no similar incidents happen again. The replacement bombers will arrive within the next few hours. We also await more news on the overall progress of the war.”

Tsimatsu sat erect on a stiff bed in the corner of the room. Most of his clothes had been taken in exchange for a smock that he wore nervously. Over the passed hour or two the ship's doctor had taken skin and blood samples from him. Hesitantly he had complied to each request by the doctor to scrap away a little bit of a rash or his healthy skin, and again when the needles had come out. He had known needles before, he had a regimen of drugs taken intravenously while in service to help regulate himself; as did most of the crew. He didn't think it was time for him to take his medication again yet, but he felt a little sick in the pit of his stomach when he looked over and saw the doctor drawing a vial full of his blood from his arm.

When it was all said and done, he had a band aid across his arm and he watched from his corner as the doctor leaned over a computer as it analyzed and decoded the samples. Tsimatsu had never seen a woman before in his life, and he watched her when she was turned away with a deep bewildered curiosity, much like a child seeing some new and interesting animal for the first time in their life. She was tall and slender, not much unlike some of his brothers he knew from home. He white gown flowed down to her ankles where the snug tightness of her socks smoothed out and toned her already delicate ankles, in compliment to a pair of red and white sneakers.

Her neck likewise was likewise as long as her legs seemed and her amber-brown hair was pulled tight against the back of her head in a long pony tail that dangled between her shoulder blades as she leaned gazing into the terminal screen reading the data that came in, she bit her crimson-red lips between straight pearly teeth as she deciphered the raw data coming through.

What made him the most curious though were her breasts. He had seen other women on the ship for sure, but since coming aboard he had tried to keep to himself and never had a chance given to study then strange new life aboard, or really given himself that chance. As such his sighting of the stray clothed tit was fleeting at best and he never gave it much thought without much preliminary observation.

The doctor's breasts were in some ways large. Or at the least they protruded through the blouse she wore and created a defined impression on her silhouette. Tsimatsu had no reference point as to say whether they were small or large. But their existence made him wonder how much they might interfere with day-to-day business. He figured they might get in the way. Or how much did they weigh? Did she feel strain with them hanging from her chest like they did? He wondered if there was somewhere else they could be, and found himself wondering if she had a penis.

He brushed these thoughts aside when she leaned back and turned to him.

“Well Mr. T, I don't know what to say.” she started in a heavy brogue looking again to the screen at her side, “There's more information in here than I thought there would be, and somehow I'm getting more than I thought I would.”

“What do you mean?” Tsimatsu asked.

“Well clearly you're human, or close enough.” the doctor continued, “At least your basic physiology confirms as much. Some of your underlying genetic code too, but as I can tell it's pretty well buried. There's information in here I didn't expect to see, I don't know what to see. Best I can do is to me it looks as if your genetic information is like a computer with continually overwritten data, nothing really deleted so much as overridden with updates and patches. I can't say it's messy, but neither can I say it's clean.”

Tsimatsu thought about this for a second and scratched at his head. He shrugged, what did he have to say?

“I was really hoping for something quick and easy. Isolate the genetic triggers for allergies and to what you're allergic to so I can issue some medicine to help you deal with it or entirely sedate your immune system to it. But I don't know which way is up or down.”

“So, it'll take some time?”

“Damn right it will.” she said with a resigned sigh, “Can I interest you in some coffee or something? I can't say it won't kill you; but at this point we're all taking chances. We're both going to be here for a while.”

Tsimatsu gave it a moment of thought, then shook his head, “No, I'll be fine.”

The doctor nodded firmly and went back to the data at hand. “Wouldn't you have liked to go down to the planet though?” Tsimatsu asked after a moment's studying silence. When he had first arrived with Abe the medical bay was fairly busy. But soon after most of it melted away, presumably to check out the planet they were orbiting around.

“Don't like beaches.” she said, “Last time I got chewed up by some alien sand lice. Locked myself away in quarantine for a month until I was sure I wasn't sick with anything.”

“How long are your moths?”

She turned to look at him, a look of disbelief furrowing her expression. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I hear people say, 'hour', 'day' and 'week' and I understand what these are, but their lengths seem inconsistent with what I know. How long are they?”

The doctor nodded, “Earth times.” she said, “We're very probably well out of relativity with Earth, the entire Fairer organization is probably completely out of sync with each other. But we use them to keep some sort of regularity among ourselves. But I don't know how to explain it to an alien, it's just something that you're supposed to figure out I guess.”

Tsimatsu didn't like the answer, it answered nothing to him. But he figured that for all intents and purposes he wasn't going to get anywhere else with the problem so he set it aside.

“Shit, I can tell you all about the favored time-signatures of 19th century French composers, and early 20th century. But I can't tell you anything about how time itself works.” she laughed, looking over at him with a wide glowing smile.

“Oh, that's nice...” he said, voice trailing.

“You want to hear?” she asked. Tsimatsu shrugged, and she began her lecture.



The thrumming of engines cut the serene peace of the alien world, for the first time in over a million years something large was entering the planet's atmosphere, and it wasn't just one; it was many. On a world where once there was only the lapping of waves of sandy beaches without so much as a lowly crab to hear the rhythmic pulse of its cerulean waves massaging its pearl white beaches. But now something had come, interrupting the serene peace without having had so much the presence of mind to burn up in its atmosphere.

If the planet itself were alive it would probably be a small blessing that while this contamination came down towards it, the most it so far represented was a noise. The thrusters burned cleaned, and what pollutant was made would within short geologic time be cleaned by its algae without so much as giving it a cancer. It was only an irritable noise these alien ships brought down to it, a throbbing, thrumming hum.

When the landing craft finally did land, five in all, a still silence again returned to the watery world. Like a small flock of giant chrome birds they sat scattered along a wide-stretch of sandy beach peppered with black volcanic rock. Stretching and winding along into the horizon in opposing directions, the beach itself was two to three miles wide and from its center the sight of water was a hazy illusion. Scraggly patches of alien grass or shrub grew in the shifting dunes and weathered banks and soon when the wind moved the ground itself under them they would go traveling like tumbleweeds until they came to rest enough to reset their roots and grow; or maybe they'd be blown to sea where they'd be set adrift for centuries, growing in the deep cold and warm oceans and building large floating islands of vegetation as the grew and congealed together in some far distant future. For now; this was all over the distant horizon of the planet's own time. For now, it was only time for a disturbance.

The doors to one of the alien landing vehicles opened with a hiss of air and a man suited up in an environmental suit stepped out with a case in hand. Inside the case was a body of instruments which he began using on the local environment, probing it for potentially hazardous biological material, ground level atmospheric conditions. He waved strange instruments through the air, dragged them through the sand, and plunged them into the waters. He stuck them under every rock he could and hiked a long trail in the area he had been landed, humming along the way as he called back his readings to the ships that had delivered him. When he came across a rocky tide pool he looked inside, took measurements, and made a quick census on the life he saw there.

After a period of two and a half Earth hours he was pleased enough with himself and started back, giving the green light for the rest of the ships as he went about unstrapped the suit and taking off the helmet.

The cool breeze caressed his face, and he breathed deep the salty air. It was not unlike an untainted coastal air on Earth. And like the salty air there, was full of relief on its own merit. He was a mid-toned man, with a soft earthy complexion, dark eyes, and wavy black hair. As he approached the landing craft, their doors again opened and within moments the first of the intrepid visitors were out in the light of the alien binary suns.

The win dancing patrons of the system cast a strange light on the world. Looking up into the sky showed a distinguishable shape in the sun, not being one but two. There was a reddish-orange light cutting through the clear blue of the sky, and with it too a clean yellow light like that of the sun on Earth. Like many other alien worlds, this made this world here feel different, confirming its own alien nature.

The dark-skinned man approached the on-comers as they exited and rose a hand smiling. “How's the water?” one of them called out.

“Fine, so far as I can tell.” he respond with a small smile, placing his equipment down on the sand, albeit I detected a fair amount of algae life in the water, I don't advise swimming until we figure out what it is; if you all want that.”

One of the men shook his head, “I'm not looking forward to it, I just want to stretch my legs on actual terra ferma.”

It was an understandable want. Whether or not the gravity on the Secret Service was like that on Earth, and besides the well broken psychological attachment to the old home one thing remained the same: the need to walk across rock, sand, or soil; to hear leaves and sticks crack underfoot if at all possible. All from time-to-time.

There was a distant rumble and the men looked over at a distant landing craft, gently rolling out of is cargo bay came a motley collection of dune buggies. Their large over-inflated wheels set inside equally over-sized wheel wells propping up a skeletal frame. In the driver's seat a large toad-like creature with faded blue skin drove it out, large over-sized mitten hands with stubby round fingers clutched the spartan, naked wheel as he drove it out with as much trained expertise as any other driver. Long chains of tattoos printed onto his skin and woven lanyards of various wires and fabrics decorated his arms and muscular reptilian torso. He wore trousers fit for a giant as he drew his knees up high against his own shoulders, long arms reaching around to grab hold of the vehicles controls.

This was Grom.

One of the men standing with the lead man looked at the unloaded buggies, “I was thinking about it on the way down, but I think feeling some wind in my face would be fine too.”

“A lot of things would be fine.” chuckled one of the others, a red-haired woman.

Abe was one of the first out himself, and together with several others long heavy metal crates were carried out to a gently slopping crown not far from the landing site. With the patient foresight of a supervisor Abe went about finding and envisioning just what it was they were doing before anything could be laid out. It was before the first crate was lowered into the sand that he had his grand plans fully formed. Staying behind as the rest went back he set about this, throwing himself at the task.

Unlatching the first numbered crate he pulled out a shovel and some rubber mats. When the second load had arrived he had a helper who went along after Abe as he made the ground work to lay out the mats to set the temporary foundation. Soon as that was done, the next numbered crates were opened.

Inside were pre-fabricated, mock bamboo walls made of plastic but textured and colored like the real thing. It was for all intents and purposes the formation of a bar.