Cath

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

“Sir, the mobile relay just came online. It's Edwards and Chappel.” Comms officer Anselm called to Mallory on the bridge.

“Initial scan activated.” A large spherical grid appeared on the Navigator’s interface. A detailed 3D model of the area surrounding the relay’s position on top of the hill the Jotunheim had crashed into began to appear. It was 526 metres away and 167 metres higher up.

They were positioned in the middle of two other similarly sized hills, with verdant valleys running between the three. To the ‘south-east’ appeared a large forest - the scan highlighted a few bodies of water and (with lower certainty) some possible structures hidden within. To the ‘north’ was the floodplain visible from the Jotunheim itself.

One of Anselm’s comm panels squawked - she quickly put on a headset.

“Jotun Two Zero this is Jotun Actual. I read you - what is your status, over?”

Anselm listened intently.

“Copy that Jotun Two Zero, hold for orders, over.”

The comms officer spun in her chair to address Mallory.

“Sir, there are more of those bird things approaching the relay. Edwards says they’re dressed like hunters. Our team are requesting instructions.” This sort of situation was within the XO’s remit. It evidently required a quick reaction and he was clearly in the best position to respond with the Captain elsewhere.

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

“On my way.” Zey confirmed to Itxaro over comms. She opened a service hatch and hopped down.

“Oh, and Vigdis? Don’t let the shapeshifter look at any more videos. I don’t like where that is heading one bit.”

---

“I am proposing a mutually beneficial arrangement. It is the Ascendency that ruins anyone who cannot perform for the ‘greater good’.” Silbermine shot back calmly to Nellara; he was at pains to remain level-headed. He even ignored the heresy in her accusations; the gods could decide her fate.

Vigdis’ translator didn’t really port sarcasm over. Silbermine thought these strangers quite amenable so far, if a little slow. “Apologies, allow me to explain.” Silbermine replied when this first Human seemed to not have understood.

“The Running is a months-long contest where the noble families of Mythadia compete for responsibilities at court, control of castles, towns, land, Glen. Winners also have the chance to enact their proposed amendments to some laws. All of Mythadia joins in the glorious pageantry.” This stuff came naturally to Silbermine - his education extensively featured the intricacies of the Mythadian power structures.

“You come from the sky, and yet you do not know Venurwreth?” Silbermine supposed something must have gotten lost in translation. “He is a sky god who travels the world atop a great shard storm, leaving behind treasures for the worthy who brave the danger below.”

It was at this point that another Tekeri berated Silbermine. He snorted in annoyance. It was one thing to trade spirited insults with a respectable figure like the Castigator. It also seemed prudent to be cautious and respectful around what appeared to be one of the few truly odd beings that roamed Kanth-Amerek. The burning tree had made its feelings known with a disgusting laugh and some barbs which weren't lost on the nobleman. But for a commoner to think they could speak to him like that without fear of retribution wasn’t going to fly.

“Stay your tongue, hedge-born.” Sir Sweven growled softly at Kerchak as a few Glen stepped forward, bearing hunks of bread. “Show some respect when addressing my lord.” The knight offered a long, thin loaf to Itxaro, towering over her. A Glen-at-arms offered another loaf to Arancini and Vigdis. One more was offered to Nellara. This variety had a green tinge, was very tough on the outside, and extremely salty. Glen liked salt.

“I see no problem with parlé here.” Silbermine replied to Itxaro. “It would be best to finalise the details of our deal in private though, if you choose to accept. We have observed you from a respectful distance, and I have been very impressed with the longevity of your golems, both large and small… I would be very interested in learning more about what they can do. Will you show us?”

---

Zey exited the shuttle bay into the clearing. As she made her way over to the group of individuals conversing by the Tekeri camp, her keen eyes spotted a Tekeri she hadn’t seen before making their way over as well. The closest security droid had clanked up behind them.

“This is a restricted area. Please identify yourself.” It said directly to Subira in S’toric.

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

Zey slowly rolled the gob of chewing gum in her mouth when Vigdis confirmed it was the creepy shapeshifter who was asking. A cool breeze ruffled her flash gear from atop the Jotunheim. A spider bot gently bumped into her - it wanted to get access to a panel she was standing on. Zey stepped to one side and patched in the ship’s doctor.

“Feng, what are you doing right now? One of our new friends wants to learn about the Human body.”

Feng was sitting in the ship’s cramped med bay, examining some X-ray results on a tablet with augmented reality glasses on. A passenger in a grey hooded jumper with a new leg cast sat on the edge of a treatment pod. Whenever Feng looked up from his tablet, the X-ray data floated to the corresponding point in that patient’s anatomy.

“Sorry, vivisection class was first period, finished already.”

“Haha. Seriously. Show him the inside of an eyeball or something, what's the harm? I want to know how these things can POSSIBLY change their entire shape; seems a good trade, no?”

“Aye Captain. I can put some of my surgery head cam video on a screen for them. Does that work?”

“Well, i was hoping for some footage that won’t fucking scar them for life but i guess i’ll take it at a pinch. Vigdis, do you have a screen you can lend the druid?” Zey asked the engineer, her eyes drawn to the edge of the charred clearing. A distinctive set of Glen appeared and had approached the team on the ground - it looked like they were talking. Zey pushed a clear earpiece into one ear and accessed the microphones of Itxaro, Arancini and Vigdis so she could hear.

---

Silbermine had been informed that the Humans were attempting to ‘learn’ S’toric a few days before. But this didn’t stop him from being taken aback when one of the tiny Human figures near the camp addressed him fluently. It seemed impossible, even with Thought magic sorcery. For once, it took him a moment to marshal his thoughts. The sight of the Jotunheim up close seemed to humble him.

“I…uhum, I sought your guidance and support in a matter of great importance. The Running approaches, and we are looking for champions. Exotic champions, to save my people from ruin against larger houses. I believe Venurwreth brought us together for this purpose. I have coin, if such an offering is required.”

Silbermine’s speech was slower and more enunciated, as one does when addressing a foreigner. It returned to normal when he included the various scowling locals in this conversation.

“You appear to have formed your own judgement of me. I pray that breaking the night’s fast together will help you see sense. We need not an escort.” That last part was directed to Nellara. Silbermine clicked his fingers and Sir Sweven motioned for two Glen-at-arms to pull some large loaves of preserved bread from their panniers.

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

As the days went by at the Glen camp, Silbermine grew inpatient. Despite his initial rhetorical approach, he wasn’t stupid. The Castigator and that rabble had got there first and had made it very clear they didn’t want to share. The hilly terrain favoured the agile Tekeri form over hulking Glen knights. When you factored in unknowns like that burning tree and who the Humans would support (if anyone), a fight between the two sides could go either way. Silbermine didn’t have enough loyal Glen to just throw them away in a pricey skirmish.

No - His father had taught Gesith the virtue of patience. Even if the Castigator had sent a life mage back as a flying bird to raise an army, the mountains of the Ascendency made it difficult to mobilise large forces quickly. Keraknúr by contrast was just a couple of days away for a determined Glen. Silbermine hoped that enough supporters would turn up to force Nellara to give them access to these new arrivals. He was desperate to learn about them, and whether they would be his champions in the Running.

As they hadn’t packed enough food for a prolonged stay, most of Silbermine’s retinue foraged the forested hillside during the day. The rest watched the Jotunheim, its inhabitants and the Tekeri camp from a distance. Most were unlearned, but dutifully recounted everything they saw to Silbermine as best they could.

It was on the morning of the seventh day that one of the Glen-at-arms dashed back into camp while Silbermine was performing his ablutions.

“My lord! The Humans and the Tekeri are talking.”

Silbermine looked up, then put the wash rag back into the bowl of cold water and exited the tent bare chested. The warrior servant bowed down in reverence before continuing.

“I heard them. I thought they were speaking in tongues like before. But the things they carry speak!”

Glen had excellent hearing. In the right conditions, they could pick up the specifics of conversations from hundreds of yards away.

Silbermine locked eyes with Sir Sweven as they lifted the flap on their much smaller tent. You could have chiselled their faces from granite.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes milord. I watched them all and the Humans were speaking S’toric. It seemed to come from a brooch they wore.”

“Very well. Fetch my caparison, quickly!”

---

Lord Silbermine led Sir Sweven and four Glen-at-arms into the clearing that now surrounded the Jotunheim and approached the Humans and other K-A natives while they conversed. He wasn’t dressed in his ornate armour from last time, but rather a dark blue caparison emblazoned with his standard in white, a grizzled mountain tree with a bird of prey perched atop it. To not wear any armour in this situation was a clear signal that Silbermine wanted to talk, rather than fight. His followers had some armour, but not a full suit. One of the Glen carried a chest on their back.

“Good morrow! We wish to break bread and talk!” Silbermine called.

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

The thirty-ish civilians who’d sheltered in the Jotunheim before takeoff were largely still wearing the clothes they’d arrived in. The ship didn’t have enough spare uniforms for everyone. Most had dressed for the cold Norwegian weather, with jumpers, hats, gloves and boots featuring quite prominently. Zey supposed that was a good thing - better to be wrapped up warm than only have a Hawaiian shirt and trunks.

Zey took her cue from Mallory.

“And I’m Zeynap Kadıoğlu, your Captain. We’re also here to listen to any concerns or suggestions you may have.”

In the end, Zey and Mallory were rarely conducting interviews at the same time. Someone needed to run the ship; there was a near constant stream of questions and status reports that needed answering. An exercise that the Captain hoped would take one day ended up taking two.

It seemed to her that the initial adrenaline and shock of the crash was wearing off, and their surprise passengers were now experiencing exhaustion (from cramped conditions), anger (that they couldn’t go outside) and fear (that they were stuck on an unknown planet in a wrecked vessel). Zey had more than a couple heated conversations with men and women who thought they knew better than her and the crew.

No, they couldn’t fly without operational reactors.

No, they couldn’t all just go camping outside to ‘get out from under each others’ feet’.

No, she couldn’t make a special exemption just for them.

She also had good conversations with ordinary people who were happy that someone was in charge, and were tentatively optimistic. They wanted to get home and see their families, and were ready to get stuck in to make that happen.

Zey took all everyone’s feedback on board, then gave them some insight into what was going to happen next. In order to get everyone home safe as quickly as possible, all able bodied people would work shifts. They would obey commands from their supervisor and the command crew at all times. It could be dangerous at times, but they would receive appropriate training, and Zey assured them it wouldn’t be more dangerous than remaining on this world for good.
After fielding a few questions about the work, Zey turned the interview back towards them. What was their skill set? What did they do for work? After combining her notes with Mallory’s list, they had the final tally - 29 civilian souls:

Spaceport cargo loaders x 2
Hangar attendant
Chemical Engineer (was heading to the Moon to help set up a new food factory)
Lunar mining equipment mechanic
Ethical hacker (knowledge of AI) - Broken leg
Archaeologists x 3
Nordic metal band members x 3
Landscape designer for the Martian rich and powerful
Lunar colony architect (head injury)
Solar energy farm engineer - focused more on sales
Marketing consultants & project managers x 3
Investment analyst x 2
Decentralised finance infrastructure engineer - Gunshot wound to shoulder
Gene editor (and mother to an 8 year old boy on board) - Venusian
Mining equipment manufacturing line supervisor (and father to a 9 year old girl on board)
Estate agent
Senior Claims Adjuster - Crisis Management, Cyber and M&A
VR game designer
Artist and graphic designer

One of the passengers who had been in critical condition since the crash died on the fourth day, and two more followed on the fifth day. Zey asked for them to be put on ice in available cryo pods for the time being - she wasn’t certain the natives wouldn’t dig up their dead again during the night.

On Crash+6, Zey reconnected with Eva @TinyKiwi about an important assignment. Getting their eyes and ears back was becoming too pressing to ignore. Once trenches had been dug, they were to head to the summit of the hill and set up the Jotunheim’s one remaining portable sensory array and comms relay (the others had fallen out somewhere over the marshes). They would set up two cameras (that was all they could spare) with a live link to monitor the site remotely.

If they could set that up successfully, the crew could begin building a detailed map of the area, identify mineral resources and increase their communications range.

On the morning of Crash+7, communications resumed with the locals who had camped nearby. Zey was on top of the Jotunheim, safely secured with a harness. She was surveying the damage and extent of repairs so far when a request from one of the aliens came through. They wanted to discuss Human biology.

“Is that the one that can’t decide what type of bird it wants to be? It's not asking to cut anyone up is it? What does it want to know?” Zey turned around to look at the camp down on the ground. A spidery mechanical drone clanked past.

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

@Eviledd1984 Thank you for you character sheet! You're accepted as our new machinist. Welcome

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

Thanks for this @Expendable! I agree with all of those bits. I'll create an inventory hider on the original post and start to expand by room when i get time. If anyone else has a good view on what sorts of things we'd have access to, i'd be very interested in hearing from you

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

In the light of morning on Crash+4, Tyreese Darnell brought Ezra some breakfast. Fastening flash gear over a plate carrier and a mask over his face, the large suited man gingerly stepped past the wall of crates and the plastic sheeting while clutching an MRE.

It was the first time he’d ventured away from the safety of the ship since they crashed. For three days previously he’d paced, swore, agitated and generally been a bit of a nuisance. Gradually, the stress of the crash had worn off and the bruise on the back of his head had gone down. He’d stopped feeling sick too. Now, he’d finally drummed up the courage to go outside.

The vista that greeted him was absolutely stunning. There had been a light rain during the night, so all the grass that hadn’t been scorched glistened with dew. The fog was gone, leaving a majestic view down the hill towards the marshes and lake on the horizon. A few small rocks tumbled down the side when he kicked them.

Tyreese couldn’t actually see Ezra, so he opened comms.

“Ezra, food for you here.”

No reply.

Perplexed, Tyreese skirted the Jotunheim’s hull until he was facing the massive primary thrusters. He looked around again. There was a camp nearby where the aliens had set up shop. He avoided them and went instead to the droid that stood guard.

“Where is Ezra?” He asked the robot.

“Opposite end.” It whispered back in Wodan’s voice.

So Darnell traipsed back along the port side of the craft and looked up the hill. He saw another droid stationed near a clutch of bushes, and so walked up.
The ground was moderately slushy underfoot, where the ash of burning shrubbery had mixed back with water. Darnell tutted at the shit now adorning his Oxford shoes, but pressed on.

The droid’s upper bod swivelled to face him as he approached. It cradled a long gun, whirring softly.

“Where is Ezra?”

It pointed, and the mercenary’s IFF tag pinged blue in Darnell’s fake eye augment. A prone outline of the man cut through the bush leaves.

“Thanks. Ezra!” Darnell called.

“He is resting.” Wodan spoke through the droid, rather superfluously. Ezra jerked instantly awake, pulled his sidearm and pointed it at Darnell in one movement. He put his hands up, MRE in one of them.

“Hey, it's me. I brought you food. Sorry, did I wake you?”

Ezra holstered the gun but stayed prone, checking his watch.

“No. Thanks.” He lightly clapped his gloved hands together and then cupped them out. Darnell understood the motion and chucked the MRE through the bush towards him. Ezra caught it and began opening it up.

“The drones can deliver these.” He said before his first bite.

“I fancied stretching my legs. The scenery is beautiful isn’t it?”

“How goes work on repairs?”

“I’m no expert, but it seems there is a lot to do.”

Some of the Wodan and Eva’s drones skittered over the hull even now, analysing issues and welding things together.

“You’d better get back to helping them.”

“Listen, Ezra, I’m sorry you’re stuck here with the rest of us.” It felt weird for Darnell, apologising to someone who was essentially a contractor. But he needed this guy on side.

“But look around. This is an inhabitable planet that isn’t Earth, and we’re the ones who discovered it! The opportunity before us is gigantic.”

Tyreese kinda expected Ezra to respond there, but he didn’t.

“Do you have a family?” Darnell asked, changing tack.

Another pause.

“Yes.”

“When we get back, you’ll be able to tell them you helped colonise a New Earth. Give them a life they could never dream of.

“We will be killed before then. I should leave, take supplies and hide until it's over.”

Darnell’s face fell.

“We can survive, Ezra. But we need you. If I can get back in one piece to make my recommendation, Tamerlane will be very appreciative of your help in this matter.”

The figure in the bushes looked right at him, the MRE motionless in his hands.

“One million per day.”

Darnell laughed out loud.

“That was for your whole team’s services!”

“Now I protect whole ship by myself. One million.”

“Two hundred thousand.”

“Seven fifty.”

“Three hundred.”

“Five.”

“Three fifty.”

“Five hundred thousand per day.”

“That is an extortionate long term rate.”

“I leave tomorrow then.”

“Ok fine. Deal. But you work for me, ok? Not the Captain. If I don't get back alive, Tamerlane would rather kill you than pay you that much.”

“I’d like to see them try.”

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

"Did you gland during the crash? It looks like there was a malfunction with your implant. The mixture didn't distribute correctly and didn't shut off properly either. You have a bit of swelling in your brain and around your cervical spine between C3 and 4. I can program a countermeasure to reduce the swelling but longer term we'll need to run a full diagnostic on your gland, neural lace and nervous system.

Zey sighed. She tried to move her head but the cable was still plugged in and the feeling of that was beyond awful. So the Captain remained perfectly still.

"Ok doc, thanks. How long?"

"20 minutes, give or take. We caught this early enough to prevent lasting damage - It could have become much worse."

---

Iris & Zey

Iris made a brisk pace through the corridors of Jotunheim bumping into a few civilians, and techs, with little regard, mumbling as she went. This is single handedly one of the most important things that mankind has come across, and for some reason, only after a few days have passed, did they think it would be pertinent to wake me their chief biologist. I approached the bridge and came to an abrupt stop at the doors that did not open at first. Iris huffed and looked the doors up and down, but before she had long to look them over they started to open. “Thank you.” she scoffed under her breath as she entered.

As she stepped in she was met with only two people being on the bridge, Dr.Feng the head Medical Examiner, and her person of interest Captain Kadıoğlu. “Captain.” she snapped with a slightly aggravated tone. She looked to the doctor who was putting some things away then back to Zey. Taking a few more steps to close the distance between them she began. “Pardon me Doctor Feng, but I need to talk with the captain for a moment, can we finish up whatever this is?”

Feng stared at Iris for a moment, then walked by her, nodding as he went.

"By all means. Welcome to the party, Doctor. "

Zey stood looking intensely at Iris as she came in. Her arms were folded.

"Doctor Lambert, welcome to Kanth-Amerek. Your cryo gave out at one hell of a time. What's your status?" The Captain's words were cordial but her tone wasn't.

“Richard did well at stabilising me.” Iris started in with formalities, and pulled up her tablet as she continued explaining. “The lab is in much a similar state as the rest of the ship with a few of the machines needing some work before they are operable again.” Iris’ tone was matter-a-fact and almost accusatory with the last part. “Edward is continuing to sort through the equipment that had not been prepared for jump, and as we are on the topic of our jump; why would we have waited to wake up the chief biologist when we are making continued contact with alien lifeforms the likes of which would be extremely important to begin studying!” She raised her voice a bit and emphasised the last part further with unwavering eye contact while pointing indirectly as if the windows of the bridge were an opening to the new planet. “Every moment lost is a major setback in progress towards understanding them, and finding out crucial information that could lead to massive scientific advancement.”

“Cryo isn’t as simple as flicking a switch and you’re back in the room, Doctor. We didn’t exactly have the luxury of waiting for you.” Zey shot back, meeting Iris’ stare.

“Wodan has taken extensive video and audio recordings of the natives; you have clearance for those. It is now going to work on a translation program. One of the newcomers can read thoughts and so interface directly, apparently.” Her face was taut - while this prospect would excite some of the crew, including potentially Iris, she didn’t like the idea of a mind reading alien outside.

“I don’t need to remind you that your responsibilities don’t end at intelligent life. We also need to figure out if their food is safe for us to consume. We have enough rations on board for 24 people to last two years - we now number nearly 60. We’re working on getting back to Earth, but that could take some time.”

Zey took a step closer to Iris. She could smell the chemicals on her body from the forced sleep.

“That means we’re stuck together, like it or, as in my case, not. This isn’t one of your sick experiments either - this is real. Good people can die from the slightest mistake here; you may be OK with that, but I'm not. So if I catch a whiff of any bullshit from you, anything at all, I won’t wait for a trial on Earth. Am I making myself crystal clear?”

---

After this latest interaction between the crew and the natives, Zey had a quick catch up with Mallory in the corridor, then called another crew meeting. Ezra was dialled in so he could listen while still on watch.

She announced Wodan’s plan to create a translation algorithm, and reiterated what Mallory had said about knowledge being their main leverage. The natives weren’t stupid - they could see and had mentioned how much more advanced their tech was. Zey wanted to give them enough information to understand what Humans were and some parts of their history (maybe putting a positive spin on things). But the recipe for gunpowder? Under no circumstances were they to divulge that information. They had to just hope that this lizard mind reader was too confused by their new and unexplored brains to find that stuff out already.

Zey then outlined her priorities while the translation software was underway. First, they were to build some defences outside of the Jotunheim. The next few weeks were still very uncertain; they had to be prepared to defend their home. Nothing fancy to begin with, just a fortification which had existed for thousands of years in Human history - the trench. The crew appeared to have vastly superior firepower over these aliens, but they were so few that only a dozen lucky arrows could devastate them. The ship was on a hillside, so Zey suggested that Eva @TinyKiwi and her suit plus robots would be the best placed to lead the excavation, with input from Ezra on positioning.

The Captain then introduced the newly awoken Dr Lambert to the crew. Some of them would have met her before, but mostly she had been kept in the background until after launch. Zey allowed Iris to highlight her qualifications, then explained her task of investigating the Natives’ food and biology.

Third, Zey proposed sealing the shuttle bay and setting it up as a living area for the passengers. Three days in, they were all scared and angry, and had taken many opportunities to stop crew members in the hall to voice those concerns. Zey made it clear her desire to move them to more permanent lodgings rather than the temporary set up in the mess hall. The telescopic docking ramp would be deployed to create a primary point of egress, and she wanted some sort of reception area set up outside to receive visitors.

Lastly, she announced that after an initial delay, herself and Mallory would be interviewing the civilians individually. This was firstly to try to assuage their many concerns. It was also to understand their skillsets, with a view to eventually assigning them roles. Zey warned everyone in the room to expect a request to train or supervise this new workforce in the coming days.

Despite everyone’s exhaustion and the relatively late hour, the meeting was lively. Lots of back and forth showed that the crew was utterly invested in the process, which is sort of what Zey wanted. She wasn’t a dictator, regardless of how the chain of command worked. She knew that her team were experts, and should be allowed to input into the priorities. By the end of the meeting, she was absolutely exhausted. Zey made her way back to her cabin and rested, letting the cocktail that Feng had put together work its magic.

Over the next few days, the Jotunheim was a hive of activity. Zey certainly felt better from that next morning, but carried on having daily check ups with Dr Feng. A more thorough X-ray and diagnostic was scheduled for Day 10. The med bay was still busy, and Zey didn't want to add to the team's woes.

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

so, how far does the telescoping ramp on the starboard side extend?

Does it only go straight across, or can it change its angle?

@Expendable

It is flexible