Enigmatik

Through the Gateways: Humanity [Closed]

The Consciousness had seen the war preparations. It would be impossible not to. Dr. Bodi had been reassured that none within the Consciousness were upset with him: That the ECU was so unreasonable was not his fault. Now, Sigma-Devi's feet clacked hard against the steel surfaces of the space station above Earth, and she, along with Alpha-Newton, settled in to make an announcement.

"It has come to my attention." She declared authoritatively. "That the ECU has been spreading lies, falsehoods and misinformation about a diplomatic incident that occurred between our nations. As a representative of the Zetan Consciousness, we would like to make it unequivocally clear that under no circumstances would Zetans capture, kidnap or otherwise forcefully take the citizens of another star nation." She paused for emphasis. "Did Dr. Bodi leave the ECU Gateway station on a Zetan vessel? Yes. Is Dr. Bodi currently on Zeta-5? Yes. However." Another long pause, and Alpha-Newton's eye-projector shone out an image of Dr. Bodi, seemingly unaugmented, healthy, and well.

"Dr. Bodi came to us Because he felt he was being mistreated by the Earth Cultural Union authorities. He believed that his health-based prosthetic, the one that kept him alive, was causing him to be discriminated against. He gave us credible proof of this, and asked, quite willingly, to come with us of his own volition. We have not augmented him against his will. We have not tortured him. All we have done is take in a refugee, and like any empathetic, reasonable nation, we did so." She let out a long breath.

"Any military action taken based on this will be considered a violation of Zetan sovereignty, and we will use any and every method at our disposal to protect our people."

---

Can we safely accelerate transcendence protocols? The group mind was abuzz with war preparations. In the space near the gateway, ships clustered about- swarming like a throng of insects protecting their hive. The Oistos construction site had been hastily disguised, in an attempt to avoid destruction should the worst occur. Colonists on Z and 3 had been busy turning their peaceful surface stations into bastions to protect against ground assault from... And in their minds, work was underway on preserving those who might lose their physical forms in this confrontation.

Theoretically, yes, however... We'd need to stimulate nanite colonies. We know what happens when they get too hungry.

Is that not an advantage? As long as the mind is still fit for transcendence, the nanite surge targeting non-neural tissue could be beneficious for soldiers on the field.

If the nanites were designed for such a thing, yes, but they don't reknit non-neural tissue together properly. They're just not designed for that. We can't build them for everything.

Can we start slower stimulations?

That wouldn't be effective for what we need. We need to ensure individuals who die in conflicts that might start any day now are able to transcend normally.

It has to be rapid then, and if the nanites get overstimulated, we just move them into warforms.

This is... Does this not make us who they think we are?

They forced our hand in this. Don't mistake pragmatism for evil.

Through the Gateways: Humanity [Closed]

| In collaboration with @Tortoise |

All that had happened outwards had drawn the Collectives memory inwards. To long ago- before the 'Consciousness' had had any idea of what they would become, and where he next step they would take in artificial evolution would lead them. Back when Elysium-Alpha had been the only settlement, an eked-out existence a kilometre and a half below the surface. Down there, in the dark, drawing power through thin lifelines up to solar panels, things had been hard.

Much of Zeta-5's life relied on the subterranean environment to provide it cover from the extreme surface world. Like most inhabitable planets, once you got down into the crust, temperatures evened out and weather was no longer a factor. A searfront could roll by your burrow and you'd survive, safe and sound, where the heat wouldn't concern you. The initial tunnels, un-guarded and carved directly into the rock, were prime targets for the deepest of Zeta's burrowing life- large, annelid-looking things, harmless yet terrifying, bastard-born swarms of foul-smelling yet tiny predators, drawn to the vibrations of daily life, and more besides. Firearms were too risky in the enclosed conditions to be used, so instead colonists found themselves fighting back vermin with their tools- hand drills, mattocks and pickaxes.

Back then, hydroponics had been worth giving your life for. The precious seedlings were what sustained the colony- leafy greens, protein-filled mushrooms and nuts, flavourful fruits. What was one life in exchange for the wellbeing of all those in the colony? Such hardships had bonded them closer, but also made them more fragile. Their politicians had become dictators, consolidating power around them and their parties 'for the best' of the colony.

The Collective, when it had first been formed, was little more than the internet in one's head. At first, people were inducted slowly, through exterior gadgets, and only when the technology had improved that it did burrow into their skulls and start to replace their grey matter. Not for centuries had the Collective implanted a fully grown adult, and the technology had advanced oh-so-much since then... But they had a new challenge. Induction.

---

The ECU would be sure to make this out to be some kind of aggressive action. In truth, it had been Bodi's idea in the first place. Disrespected, ground down and displeased, when it had been made clear that the Zetan ambassadors were no longer welcome in the Cultural Union's borders, they had surreptitiously smuggled out the good doctor with them. Nobody had noticed for long enough for the crew to slip through the gateway and back to the Zeta system, and now, after two weeks in the space between stars, the ship came down towards the surface of the fifth planet from the sun of Zeta.

The Collective was… Unsure if this would work. Normally, induction occurred prior to puberty- prior, in fact, prior to the ability for humans to recall memories when they were older. This was a new one. An entirely new one. The ship that had conveyed their first foreign citizen touched down into Elysium-Alpha to a flurry of activity. No sooner had the doors of the craft opened before they were beset by a contingent of doctors and scientists standing by, all displaying a vast and dizzying variety of augmentations to better serve their purposes. The maglev to the surface had been cleared in preparation for the doctor’s arrival, and although there were no journalists, the entire Collective was tuning in to the show.

“Welcome to Zeta-5,” a tall, handsome, and extremely augmented gentleman declared. “No time to waste: we’re going to try the implants ASAP.”

Dr. Bodi, potential ECU defector and very frightened man, only nodded. "I… see." Ever since meeting the Zetans for the first time six months earlier, aboard the Listening Post he worked on, he felt a deeper connection to them than he ever had in his own nation. The Zetan diplomats were polite and considerate, whereas any Oligarch only treated legitimate scientists as tools to be used or dirty secrets to be hidden.

No, no, it went deeper than that. Any diplomat would be polite. But the ECU once promised the doctor a future, and when his heart gave out and had to be replaced with a prosthetic, attitudes changed. They were so concerned with preserving the human form that even that small replacement was something horrid. It made him less-than-human. New Hollywood hadn't been his home since; they holed him up at the Listening Post, where he met the Zetans.

Dr. Bodi took a deep breath. "Alright. Let's go."

The Mag-Lev spooled up and off the ground, then fired its engines. “This,” explained Bodi’s new guide, “Is Elysium-Alpha. The whole of Zeta-5 is broken down into 3 sectors, each carrying twenty-four subsectors, denoting their viability for life and usefulness to us as colonists. Elysium holds the best, brightest and most valuable sectors, whilst Tartarus holds the least valuable and most dangerous. Most all Zetan settlements are located deep beneath the surface- our hydroponic plants don’t much like the radiation on the surface.”

Bodi chuckled at this. "Our people don't much like radiation on the surface."

“True enough. It’s why we only head to the surface once we’ve shed enough to keep ourselves safe.”

Their vehicle was currently moving just slightly slower than the sound barrier. At this speed, it took only a minute or two to descend down to the main ‘city,’ not that Bodi would be seeing much of it, as they instead hurried to the main medical facility of Elysium-Alpha. Sleek, clean and sterile, the people inside parted to allow the team through.

“We can’t put you under for the operation. It’s simply too risky. We’ll apply a local anaesthetic, but it’s likely it won’t penetrate deep enough to make you entirely numb to the sensation. We’ll try to make it as easy on you as we possibly can.” A long pause. “And, I suppose, the good news is that the brain doesn’t hold any pain receptors.”

Ah, good news. Yes. That's good news.

Bodi briefly considered running away instead. But his mouth instead said "Yes, alright." It was too late to reconsider.

Bodi was unceremoniously stripped and asked to lie down on a custom-produced hospital bed. The headrest had a looped shape to it, keeping his head in place whilst allowing direct access to the back of it and his neck. “Apologies,” one of the doctors said, pulling a strap across his scalp and tightening it down. “This must all feel rather inhumane, but it’s best not to take chances.”

Well, thought Bodi. It could be worse. They could be using even more straps.

More straps applied to his arms and legs, and then, when all was ready, he would feel a cold gel applied to his neck and lower head. The sensation spread inwards, penetrating the skin and sapping sensation away from his flesh, until the entire area couldn’t feel a thing.

“Vital signs reading normal. Elevated heart rate. Nervous?” One of the doctors asked him, although they already knew his answer.

"Oh, you know what I'm thinking already," Bodi answered from the bed. It was meant to be a light-hearted joke, but probably didn't come out that way.

“Preparing site.” There was a quick hissing noise, and then the rather disgusting smell of hair being scorched off. “Don’t worry,” the doctor remarked. “It’s just a medical grade razor. No blade means nothing to sterilise.” Then came the instrument itself. Just one- so innocent, so… Innocuous. A plain metal spike, splitting open to reveal a needle. A large needle, a very thick, sharp, and pointy needle, but just a needle.

“Inserting.” As promised, there was a tweak of pain as the needle eased its way through the numbed portion of Bodi’s flesh, and into the still-sensitive part. Still, it slid deeper, until the man could feel an odd sensation- a piece of metal scratching at his skull.

“Bone reached. You’re going to feel a sharp pinch,” the doctor warned. A muffled click sounded from inside his head, accompanied by a dagger of pain, and then the needle continued past, into the senseless brain matter underneath.

Bodi’s fingers gripped onto the bed as he tried not to scream. That was not a pinch. That was a whole stab into his brain, but at least, it was subsiding as they went deeper. A small mercy. Did they use anaesthetic when they did this on infants? Or was every Zetan traumatized at an early age? Did the Collective carry a group trauma that nobody ever acknowledged?

The man decided to focus on this, rather than all of what was going on around (and now, inside) him.

“Reached grey matter.” There was a long pause.

“Nanite spike deploying.” The plunger was depressed, and the payload of microscopic robots was deployed into Dr. Bodi’s brain. The needle slid cleanly out, the doctor wiping away a dot of blood, then spraying on a sterile ‘foam’ of neutered nanites, which would patch the skull, sew the skin together and then harmlessly pass into his bloodstream to be filtered by his kidneys and deposited as waste. “Right. Nanites are currently dormant. Activation signal in

5...

4...

3...

2...

1...

Activating.”

A few seconds went by. Dr. Bodi started to think it wasn’t going to work, and then, he realized the doctor was thinking the same thing. From a different perspective, anyway, because the Zetan doctor knew much more about…

Wait. Bodi thought. How do I know that?

Picking up nanite surge. They’re multiplying. Neural tissue being modified… the words weren’t spoken, yet Bodi heard them. The same way he heard the thoughts, maybe even the feelings, of the men and women in the room with him. And the adjacent room… and then…

Like a bird’s eye view, but from the level of individuals rather than over their heads, he could suddenly feel the building around him- or, the people within it. He witnessed through their eyes, through the eyes of a man briefly on the surface, hearing through the ears a woman in orbit, and finally, knowing the anxieties of an explorer far, far on the other end of a Gateway.

“...oh,” he said, as if that covers it. “That’s what it’s like.”

Nanite appetite is stabilising, they’re settling into normal transcendence routines. Activating medical nanites… Now… He would feel a tingling sensation as the medical robots did their job. Complete. Welcome to the Collective, Dr Bodi… Or, how does ‘Alpha-Bodi’ sound to you?

---

Most Zetans no longer feared radiation. The simple fact of the matter was that it posed much less of a threat to humans forged from metal than it did those still comprised of flesh. Replaced organs, dermal coverings and their deeply-dug tunnels kept them safe, even when they left those tunnels for the surface, but there was one part of Zetan society that still had to be kept radiation-free... Their plants.

All of Zeta's half-a-billion strong population was supplied by their farms. A combination of hydroponic, aeroponic and tissue-culture plants were carefully groomed for maximum yields with minimal resources. Although most Zetans took this system for granted, it was oh-so-very fragile. It only took one or two things going wrong for a catastrophic cascade of events to knock out most of Zeta's food supplies, and although they could be regrown and stores would keep Zetans alive, there was no doubt that they were the most vulnerable of all the Consciousness' systems.

Because of this, should fighting enter the tunnels, and Zetans once again had to fight for their homes, their current weapons were unacceptable. The deleterious effects of their fusion batteries were a boon when scorching enemy soil, but down in the tunnels all they would do was seal the Consciousness' doom if improperly used. Thus, the subterranean theatre had required its own developments.

First and foremost was the upgrading of current radiation countermeasures. It had been floated that, against a sufficiently threatening enemy, it might be possible to 'flood' passages and rooms with bursts of gamma radiation. Around 30 grays of ionizing radiation, although invariably fatal within only a few days, could be extremely potent in the short term- just minutes after such exposure burns, nausea, vomiting, headaches and worse would cripple enemy troops, rendering them easy picking for infantry.

Said infantry would need to equip themselves with different weapons to their surface-fighting brethren, and it had been found in classic weapons from old Earth- firearms. The tunnels of their forebearers were far too risky to use firearms in, but Zetans had built them sturdier and safer in the intervening decades. Automatic shotguns and compact rifles, in combination with melee weapons would defend Zetan homes, children, and crops.

They could only pray these preparations were in vain.

Through the Gateways: Humanity [Closed]

Elysium-Psi had become the most violent place on the planet over the past six months. Ranked near the bottom of the Elysium sectors, although it 'flourished' with life when compared to Asphodel or Tartarus sectors, most of it was the kind of large, angry life that Zetans viewed as more trouble than worth to engage with and drive out. The latest initiatives, however, had changed all this. A modified anti-predator form, now simply being referred to as 'light warform,' was stalking across the sand. Its form had been clad in thin, treated leather clothing to keep the exterior somewhat protected from the sweeping sandstorms that could strip layers of skin off like sheets of paper... Not that its prey was having any trouble with the inclement conditions.

At approximately four foot tall from foot to shoulder, and around six foot long, the beast was Ladon- and one of the largest land predators on Zeta-5. Despite its size, its hide had the impressive ability of acting as both ablative and reactive armour. Initially, the thick, rock-like outer layer could keep the Ladon safe from initial strikes, and when that was penetrated its body would immediately 'bloat' out a surge of tissue development in response to the damage. Such a mechanism drained a lot of energy from the creature, but also meant that they were renowned for their toughness...

Until today. The warform brought its gun up to its head- a by-product of its organic inhabitant being trained to do so, and not an actual need to line up sights. Pins on the warform's foot grounded it and steadied it in the whipping air, and then a finger curled down onto a trigger. When it was depressed, an electrical signal rushed up into the weapon's stock and a small ball of steel was dropped into a long, internal groove. Electromagnets on the device briefly flickered on and off, and then, with the crack of a small object breaking the sound barrier, the same ball was sent flying, whistling through the air to carry out its purpose.

The gun itself let out a long hissing noise, jets of steam rushing out of grooves along the gun's barrel. The Ladon, having not heard the 'shot' until far too late, had not moved, the warform approaching it cautiously. The beast's rocklike form had a single, delicate hole in it- punched neatly all the way through and to the other side, where the payload had spiralled through and laded somewhere else. Although the Ladon stood upright still, it was quite dead.

"Reporting weapon test successful."

---

Above Zeta-5's skies, a different sort of weapon was being devised. News of alien empires, domineering and powerful, and the threat of new human colonies attacking them had meant that Zeta had begun to build its naval forces up once more. The gateways offered a unique tactical challenge- Zeta itself had to become a hardpoint, whilst their navy needed to be a spearhead capable of shattering through an opposing hardpoint and delivering ground forces onto a planet. Troop transports then, needed to be small, fast, and as heavily armoured as they could be without compromising on speed and size. As plans for that had been drawn up, work on the hardpoint had begun.

The usual stations Zetans built would not suffice for such a measure. They needed something that could resist and return large amounts of fire, whilst also supporting point-defence and drone/fighter combat- the Aegis ring. Then, on one of the many, many, many, many moons of Zeta-4, a work had begun. The skeleton of what would become the Oistos defence system had been erected- a great hulk of metal and workers. Working on similar, if greatly magnified, version of the electromagnetic systems their ground forces used, the Oistos was a gigantic rail cannon constructed in the low-gravity, no-atmosphere environment of a tidally-locked moon, and thus, as the weapons system was mounted on a rotating plate, could continually maintain overwatch on the Gateway. Unfortunately, such a large device required tremendous energy, and there was only so much they could store in its batteries. After only one or two initial shots, the Oistos would need to spend precious time rebuilding its banks back up to fire successive shots.

These were, of course, still works in progress. Oistos looked to still be several years from completion, and although the core of the Aegis ring had been rapidly put into place, it was a shadow of what the designers had intended- enough to delay an initial assault perhaps, but no more. Zeta's fledgeling navy was in a similar shape- when combined with the embryotic Aegis ring, the Consciousness could likely just about hold their own system from attack, but could hardly launch a counter-strike. Still, progress had been made, and it had been made just in time with the ECU directly threatening them. It would not stand, and Zeta could not be seen as a mindless aggressor. Luckily, the Meeting Place stood ready for diplomatic posturing.

---

Sigma-Devi strode out confidently, and with her, the other star nations got a first glimpse of Zetan militarisation. The warforms that flanked her were uniform white metal, and carried ballistic weapons designed for station combat. Humanoid, yes, with the familiar digitigrade legs and individually articulated fingers, but it was bulkier, moved less lightly... And, of course, wore visible military equipment. To standardise the small warforms with regularly augmented Zeta soldiers, the warforms carried their ammunition in chest rigs and had sidearms on their hips... Although, their electrical defence systems had not been removed.

Sigma-Devi herself looked particularly prim and proper today. Taking to a small podium, cameras having been set up previously to record the message as an introduction to other nations, she cleared her throat properly, then began.

"Kindred of the stars." She began, voice warm and filled with emotion. "We are the Zetan Consciousness, a nation that is unequivocally dedicated to the furthering of mankind's knowledge of the universe, and the ability for each and every individual to reap the benefits of such understanding. We stand upon the shoulders of the giants that once inhabited the planet below us, and build on their knowledge and learning, to push back the darkness of ignorance and hatred, and to overcome any obstacle that stands before a brighter future for us, and for humankind!"

Through the Gateways: Humanity [Closed]

@Tortoise

We're not the mechanicus though?

Wait those are toasterfuckers.

Through the Gateways: Humanity [Closed]

<Snipped quote by Tortoise>

That's because they are cute like little puppies. And you don't choose creepy androids over puppies.

@Raylah

We can be cute too! I swear!

Through the Gateways: Humanity [Closed]

Epsilon-Bouchet turned to face the soused Andrei and bowed deeply. "Hello there. We are part of explorator-vessel 1-Alpha-Thirty-Nine." although he pronounced it 'niner,' "dispatched from the planet Zeta-5. I understand that to someone unfamiliar, our modifications might be... Strange." He smiled pleasantly. "We're the same human beings underneath all the metal, I can assure you." He turned towards the scientist, and quietly, under his voice, offered a joking 'I see somebody has been enjoying their time off a lot.'

| @Tortoise |

Hmm. Communications problems. The Collective's mind set to work. The data that flooded from the planet was gathered and disseminated, linguistic programs roused to life to attempt to crack grammar and vocabulary. For hours, 1-Alpha-Fifty-Five hung in space, seemingly idle. It used the words the planet had sent back and compared their sentence-structure choices, millions of minds attempting to untangle it. Until, at last, four hours after it had started working on the task, the Collective had what they believed to be an approximate pidgin to communicate with. The more they spoke, and the more data from this world they gathered, the more refined the technology would become.

They returned a fresh message towards where they had received the first one. "Will not harm. Desire talk. We land somewhere?"

| @ClocktowerEchos |

There was a ship entering Zeta's gateway. No sooner had it arrived than a greeting was blasted at it, two ships that had been left on standby for this exact purpose sailing towards it. Zeta did not arm its ships usually, but the Consciousness had decided that there needed to be a certain level of defensiveness when interacting with foreign individuals. Thus, whilst those leaving the Zeta system would not be armed, anyone entering's first sight would be two standard scientific vessels... Retrofitted with several conspicuous missile systems.

Greetings! The message declared. Welcome to the Zeta system! Please, allow our vessels to escort you to our under-construction diplomatic station! It was overly cheery, welcoming and disarming, to help counteract the show of strength. 'Under construction,' too, was a bit of an understatement. Zeta built their stations by fitting together pre-made sub-sections. Of course, this wouldn't do when the station was supposed to fit an entirely new purpose they couldn't just slap old pieces together.

Thus, their current diplomatic vessel was simply a standardised core that had been cleaned out of all research instruments in order to make for a more welcoming environment to guests. Around this core, EVA suits and robotic workers swarmed, putting in plan the Collective vision they shared. Not only would this be their first impressions for many nations, but this would also serve as a testing ground for the Sol system. A diplomatic neutral ground over their old homeworld only made sense, after all.

The guest ship was lead in to this hive of activity, and several of the docking lines were sent across. Their diplomats stood ready, and although their initial interactions with the Earth Cultural Union and the Undefeated had gone poorly, the Consciousness' eagerness to meet new nations had not diminished. Perhaps the third (or fourth, depending on who you asked,) time would be the charm?

| @Ekreture |

Through the Gateways: Humanity [Closed]

| In collaboration with @Raylah |

1-Alpha-One pivoted towards the signal as soon as it came in. Another ship. Another spacefaring colony. The Consciousness was not alone. This information sparked another wildfire to race through the Collective’s processing systems... But there was still some doubt. They had yet to meet these other colonists, to see them face to face.

“This is 1-Alpha-One. It is very good to see you there, Guardian Blackwood. Permission to come aboard? And, if so, would you mind awfully showing us a convenient airlock to come aboard on?” As the ship broadcast its message back, it responded with movement, engines firing up to slowly bring it closer to the other vessel.

The bridge was silent as they listened to the response. Alfonso Rodriguez, the Reaper Squadron commander, frowned. “I don’t think it is a good idea to just let potential enemies on board.”

Kelsie wasn’t so sure about it either, but there weren’t many other options. “They seem to be peaceful, at least for now. We need to take advantage of that and get as much information as possible. Plus, this is supposed to be a diplomatic mission. So let’s make some diplomacy, people. Major Parker, open the B-2 airlock and send them the coordinates. Rodriguez and Springer, get your weapons, you two will function as an armed escort. Pick our guests up at the airlock and lead them to the conference room. And try to look friendly.”

The conference room was just a small storage room equipped with some chairs and a table, nothing fancy. Not that the Undefeated would ever make anything look fancy on purpose. Kelsie stood there in her formal uniform, trying not to look nervous. She was unarmed. It originally seemed like a good idea to appear more diplomatic, but now it made her feel almost naked.

1-Alpha-One manouvered itself into position. There was a long pause as crewmembers aboard the vessel strode to the airlock, but then, sure enough, across from B-2, a port opened. Three figures, dressed in sleek white EVA suits stood in the light of their ship.

“Deploying magnetic hook.” One of the figures had retrieved a large, cannon-looking device from the airlock, and was now aiming it just adjacent to B-2. None would hear as the device fired its clamp, but the unspooling metal coil and the flattened shape of the thing made its purpose obvious. It made contact with a dull thunk noise, and then the figure would affix the firing device to the wall again, the three figures hooking themselves onto the line with harnesses.

“Heading across.” Slowly, almost painfully so, the three began to make their way across. Minutes dragged out as they slowly hauled themselves across the gap between the two vessels, inching closer and closer to the B-2 airlock. Finally, they arrived adjacent to it, the first figure swinging themselves back and forward, before slamming both feet down against the foreign ship.

Disconnecting the harness, they took a few steps along the side of the vessel, magnetic clamps in their feet holding them steady, and stood comfortably inside the airlock, the other two performing a similar trick to board. The airlock clamped shut around them and air flooded back in.

Not long after, three figures emerged into the conference room. The first, and the one that seemed to be leading the trio, was a chestnut-skinned woman with a pulled back black bun of hair. Although obviously human, mechanical replacements had crept into their appearance. The front portions of their hands and their neck were both made from black metal, contrasting nicely with the pale blue-and-gold lehenga choli she wore. Behind her was what appeared to be a humanoid android, cables snaking out of their head to mimic dreadlocks, individually articulated limbs and extremities and digitigrade legs, and next to them was a tall, broad-shouldered and pale-skinned man. His only obvious replacements were subtle synth-lines on his left arm and his eyes, which were ringed by metal and blinked a luminescent red.

The first woman raised her hand, palm-first towards Kelsie. Her small and ring finger were held together, parted from her middle and index finger, which were, in turn, parted from her thumb. “Hello.” She said plainly. “I am Sigma-Devi, from the colony that arrived in the Zeta system. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Kelsie had seen a lot of crazy things in her life, but this? This was on a whole new level of craziness. It took all the self-control she had to not stare at her visitors with her mouth open. She remembered their transmission. ‘Eager to meet our own kind.’ But were they still the same kind?

The robotic man, or whatever that thing was, was too disturbing to look at and the other man’s red eyes made shivers run down her spine, so she decided to focus on their leader. The woman was dressed in a beautiful gown that seemed almost inappropriate in the plain room with oil stains on the floor. Kelsie couldn’t help but wonder if Sigma-Devi was hiding more implants under the intricate piece of clothing.

The two Reapers she assigned to guard duty entered the room right after the visitors and now stood silently by the door with their weapons ready. Kelsie was glad she didn’t have to be alone in the room with the creepy strangers and made a mental note to always bring at least one more ‘diplomat’ should any further meeting occur. Her military mind was already playing out what-if scenarios. She was fairly certain that Springer and Rodriguez could take out Sigma-Devi and the red-eyed guy almost immediately, but the third man (if you decide to call that thing a man) was a mystery. One could only guess what surprises the strangers were hiding.

The robotic figure turned towards the two Reapers as they entered the room. Its face was blank- a sheer surface illuminated from behind by a rainbow of lights so that one could tell the direction it was looking in. Its feet clinked softly against the floor of the ship as it turned fully to face them, but Sigma-Devi seemed not to pay it or them any mind, moving forward to stand behind the table.

The robot surely didn’t like being watched by armed people. The question was whether he was just nervous or felt threatened. Fortunately, standing guard was part of a base training, and the Reapers were doing a great job of just standing there, staring aimlessly into the room, still being ready to jump right into combat any second should it become necessary. Kelsie tried not to pay any attention to this silent exchange

Kelsie didn’t even try to mimic Sigma’s gesture: she didn’t want to risk it just in case her messing it up would be considered a deadly insult. She just bowed her head a bit, inviting the visitors to the table. “Welcome to the Revenant. We come from a colony from a planet we call Ellara, although the official system designation was FT-8PO. We have not had an easy start there, but managed to pull through.” Kelsie paused, not wanting to reveal too much information. Saying ‘we are still at war that we are far from winning’ probably wouldn’t be too diplomatic. Or smart for that matter. “This is the first system we have ventured into, hoping other colonists will also want to look at what happened to Earth. Have you managed to contact anyone else yet?”

“I’m afraid we have no records of FT-8PO.” She paused for a moment, as if in thought. “But yes. We have ventured into other systems, and we have received a signal from a third ship here in Sol. One that claims to be from the ‘Earth Cultural Union.’ We have not contacted them yet. The other system has not yet responded to our hails.” She paused. “How about your own efforts? Have you met with others?”

Kelsie paused. How did she get that information? She didn’t appear to have any visible commslink, perhaps it was in one of her implants? And how does she even know what is happening in another system right now? “You are the first ones we have met here. As we have no contact with our home planet, we cannot be certain if someone else didn’t use our Gateway while we were gone. This system surely is busy,” Kelsie smiled. “If you excuse me for a few seconds.” She got up and walked to a corner, reaching for her comlink. “Parker, hail that new ship, and tell them to hold on for a bit, we will get to them as soon as we are done here,” she said quietly, knowing that her guests are listening to every word. “It is good that there are more surviving colonies,” she returned to the table. “After the trouble, we went through and the efforts we have had to make to just survive, we were afraid that others would not have been so lucky.” Of course, luck has had nothing to do with why the Undefeated survived. “I am sure you have run into plenty of problems yourselves.”

Sigma-Devi watched as Kelsie moved over and gave off instructions, remaining politely still. Behind her, the robotic form had turned back around. “Forgive me,” the woman said, slowly. “I did not introduce my fellows. This is Alpha-Newton, and this is Omega-Babbage.” She indicated first to the red-eyed man, and then to the robotic form, each of which would present their palms and split their fingers like Sigma-Devi had.

“Yes, Zeta-5… It was not a very hospitable place. Omega-Babbage here is currently controlling an anti-predator form.” ‘Controlling.’ The Collective had decided it would keep transcendence a secret, at least for now. “Alpha-Newton here has had his eyes replaced so as to better handle the sun.”

“I am pleased to meet you,” Kelsie nodded towards the two men. So there was someone remotely controlling this thing? That would be so useful in combat. But it is probably not a good time to ask if they could send a few dozens of them our way. “Remotely controlled machines to fight off the predators seem like a very good idea. You have made great technological advances. But isn’t having your eyes replaced just for the sake of sun protection a bit extreme? Surely a pair of sunglasses could work just as well.” Kelsie smiled nervously, realizing too late that her dumb attempt at making a joke could be seen as a huge insult to the Zetans. She had no training for this, dammit!

“Thank you.” Sigma-Devi bobbed down into a quick bow, palms pressed together. “We are proud of what we have accomplished on our new world, despite all its hardships.” She paused to look at Alpha-Newton, who looked at Kelsie, humourless.

“If you have sunglasses that stop malignant tumors, I’d love to hear of them.” A long pause hung in the air as the trio looked at one.

“Perhaps we should invite those others to this vessel? A… Three-way negotiation, so to speak?”

Kelsie felt a drop of cold sweat running down her back. This was hell, she had not been a diplomat for even a whole day and she was already causing an interplanetary incident. She remembered being stranded alone in a swamp, Screechers closing in from all sides, the extraction point so far it might as well have been on another planet. But even back then she didn’t feel this level of panic. She was trained to survive in an enemy-filled swamps. No one trained her how to negotiate with half-androids.

“I think that is an excellent idea. If you excuse me for a few moments, I will go to the bridge and invite them myself,” she got up, relieved to get out of the room, even if only for a few minutes.

---

In the home system of the Earth Cultural Union, a similar scene was occuring. The magnetic lock had been fired across, three figures in EVA suits had hooked onto it, and they made their way across to the station. Shedding their suits, the trio were at once similar, and yet also very different to the ones currently speaking in Sol. An anti-predator form was here too, although instead of the dreadlock-like cables it was instead covered in a glossy black, over which had been detailed intricate gold shapes, each one corrosponding to a specific mathematic formula.

Their companions though were the different aspect. Sigma-Devi was here instead replaced by a tall, lanky man, scalp bereft of hair and instead replaced by chrome. Three light strips instead slowly flickered and changed different colours at seemingly random, but the man's face was open, fleshy, and honest. His legs had also been replaced- much like the anti-predator form his were digitigrade and very clearly metallic even through the lightweight trousers he wore. Beside him was an androgynous figure, much shorter, and with a sense of ethereal elegence to them, enhanced by the feet-concealing gown they wore and the unnaturally pale sheen of their skin. They seemingly floated through the corridoors of the ship, even as their fellows silently stalked, metallic toes making almost no noise when they came into contact with the floor.

Emerging out onto the holographic suite, there was a pause as the trio took in the view. "Incredible. Our early experiments into holographic technology have yet to yield anywhere near as an impressive result." The trio mentally exchanged looks, as did those in the Collective actively tuning in. "It is very good to see you- as we talk, your ship in Sol has been talking to our own vessel. I am Epsilon-Bouchet, this is Gamma-Nine, and this is Beta-Bernas-Lee, from the Zeta system." He indicated to the androdynous figure, and then the defense form in turn, and then all three presented their palms and split their fingers like their fellow had done halfway across the galaxy.

| @Tortoise |

Through the Gateways: Humanity [Closed]

A spark started in the Collective's processing. It was lit on a small scientific space station, hanging in orbit above Zeta's sandy surface, gazing out at the universe around the small, yellow dot. The spark, once lit, blossomed immediately. It grew from an ember to a conflagration in only a few moments, a flame racing across the minds of the Consciousness. On the moons of Z and 3, workers moved to see through the translucent hab-domes, on the surface of Zeta, they stared upwards, organic and biomechanical eyes adjusting to the brightness, and deep beneath the planet's surface, those that could not afford to rapidly emerge instead stared through the eyes of their friends, out onto a second sun, burning bright in the sky.

The flames said only one thing- just one short sentence. The Gateways are back.

---

Never before had the group mind acted so single-mindedly. Were they truly the last alive? Had the other ships settled? Founded nations? What did they look like now? What had happened to Earth since they left? Every single individual had their own questions, worries, fears, and for a few precious seconds the group mind found itself seized. Never before had every single person focused on a single thing so intently.

Furious discussions were held in the silence of the mind. Referendums were tabled, votes were tallied, arguments were put forth, debunked, edited and put forth again. The drop in efficiency that day was clearly visible on graphs and charts for years to come, as the mental power of millions was shifted to a centuries-old technological marvel in the sky.

Less than twenty-four hours later, spaceships pierced the atmosphere of Zeta. Aboard each one was a representative of the Consciousness, an individual that was clever, industrious, charismatic and not too heavily augmented, so as to better be identified with by any survivors that might not have taken such an extreme stance on transhumanism. The craft entered the vacuum of space and prepared themselves, the Gateway's systems lighting up in front of their eyes.

Countless systems. Countless habitable planets. Old Earth names- their own system still marked as 'Zeta.' But each craft had a different destination. The first- Sol System, the others flocked out, methodically ticking off boxes. Each one would silently sail into the Gateway, and in an instant find itself pulled across the galaxy, flung about like the colony ships had been so many years ago.

---

The first ship did not need to investigate further to know that humankind's cradle was uninhabited. The planet was dead and lifeless- no signals came from it, not even the crudest of radio transmissions. The planet, rather than the shades of blue, white and green that the Collective's memory banks had preserved, were instead a sickly greyish ochre, an atmosphere choked with particulates, a ground bereft of humans.

Now, sorrow rippled through the feeds of the Collective. Their first home- the planet they had all sprung from, was gone. Lost to their own foolishness, their inability to get along, their failures to see the train rushing down the tracks and towards them. Yet, still, the craft hung there, outside Earth's Gateway. It had another task now, now that their main method of transportation was open. Sol was the system any still capable of spacefaring would venture to- a chance to meet those who arrived to see their homeworld again.

The ship- unceremoniously named 1-Alpha-One, hung in space, having stopped itself in place. It focused transmissions towards the Gateway, and began to beam out a message.

"Hail, those that still voyage through the stars. We are one of the lost colonies, eager to meet our own kind. Please, we mean no harm."

---

1-Alpha-Thirty-Nine was confused. This was not Earth. This was definitely the Bezia system. So, why then, were they picking up signals that seemed like they came straight from Earth? Talks of 'Ireland,’ and 'Hollywood,' even 'God.' Confused, they gazed out onto this part of space, and saw below them a system swarming with life. Human life. There was a station near the Gateway, and one they began beaming their message.

"Hail, those that still voyage through the stars. We are one of the lost colonies, eager to meet our own kind. Please, we mean no harm."

---

1-Alpha-Fifty-Five had cruised through the portal, and emerged onto a system that clearly held spacefaring life. The signals they received were garbled and confusing- talk of 'The Party,' 'Mortology,' 'Trifera,' but it was language. Identifiable language. And there were identifiable nations down on the planet below.

Their message beamed out.

"Hail, those that still voyage through the stars. We are one of the lost colonies, eager to meet our own kind. Please, we mean no harm."

| @ClocktowerEchos | @Tortoise |

Through the Gateways: Humanity [Closed]

@ClocktowerEchos

Unfortunately I don't think the Consciousness really works in Warhammer framework. They're not Tyranids with synapse creatures that they need to disseminate orders or Necrons who revive on the battlefield, and they don't really have commanders and generals and other 'character' units.

Through the Gateways: Humanity [Closed]

And I am immediately dropping my population to around 400-500 million living Zetans.

Expect the update to come alongside the big tech overhaul I'm doing now that I realise other people have made better computers than the guys that are supposed to be good at computers.