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Inheritors of the Stars [FT-Open]


Solaris Congress
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"The Sirvenal* begins final pre-launch procedure in 120 minutes."

Selvas tore her gaze from the glass model of the Sirvenal in the center of the small forum. It wouldn't be long now, she knew, but still the wait felt as though an eternity. Fortunately, the final call would be arriving soon, and, of course, there was no harm in arriving early, not now that the ship was pressurized anyhow. She set off toward the Launch Gantry, following the familiar signage naming the various structures and modules of installation. 

 

It was several minutes before she reached the bulkhead that separated the Double-Secure** Interior from the outer*** sections of the station. A quick insertion and removal of the her access chip opened both ends of the as-yet unnecessary emergency airlock. Regardless, she stopped to put on one of the bulky, uncomfortable, civilian pressure suits often used simply as precaution by anyone who had been paying attention during the explosive decompression briefing, and began the transition to the Outer sections. It was always a awkward affair to do this, as one had to transition from a gravity more reminiscent of life back on Solaris IX, to something noticeably lighter, and of course, the nature of such meant climbing a ladder in an awkward pressure suit.

 

"The Sirvenal begins final pre-launch procedure in 100 minutes."

She had reached the outer station, and finally, it was beginning to look like an event of import was taking place, with similarly suited individuals running, or, as close to such as the suits would allow, back and forth between various stations and modules. Ahead of her, towards the lower sections of the Station, she could see one of the few windows on the Station, the a small section of the Sirvenal just barely visible through it. Enthusiasm renewed by the brief glimpse of her goal, she set off once more.

 

She reached another bulkhead, this one, marked with the red and blue Star that was the symbol of the Congress' Interstellar program. She hastily retrieved another, substantially more detailed, access chip, and inserted it into the controls. This one would not be retrieved, a security measure, in case the key happened to be acquired by one not meant for the mission. A few seconds later, the bulkhead opened, revealing yet another airlock, this one, with an observation chamber set into its leftward wall. 

 

"Please name yourself." Came the call from said observation chamber, "Selvas", she responded. The guard's breath audibly caught, clearly believing himself to be speaking to one of much less import. "Kir**** Selvas." He started, "May you be honored. You will find your requested equipment along the rightward wall." The guard hadn't been wrong, an Electromagnetic Rifle*****, a collapsible shield, and several kits of various bits and pieces were mounted on the wall next to a red and blue pressure suit, the substantially slimmer, Congress issued variants, marked with the symbol of the Sesarin.

 

She wasted no time in removing the cumbersome suit she was wearing, instead using the saved time to examine the Sirvenal pressure suit more closely. The trademark red glass of the Congress, hiding a simple optical isolation system, no doubt. Two small metal bars hanging from the bottom-right of the helmet, marks of triumph that felt so long ago now. Beyond the small, if heavily decorated, partial mantle on the right-arm, the suit was quite spartan, save, of course, the mountings for the various equipment.

 

"The Sirvenal begins final pre-launch procedure in 60 minutes."

She had finally found a place free from the Asersin making the final checks on technology tested and rebuilt countless times. The Sirvenal's command chamber. She took her position at the back of the room, the semi-closed section that served as the point of discourse between the Vessel's leaders. From here, she could see the entirety of the room; the careful lattice of light diodes that served as the three-dimensional display for the various sensor systems of the ship, the various control systems for systems such as the Spatial Drive, the traditional propulsion, the (currently offline) fusion reactor that powered the ship, even the unique solid-state laser that could devastate any ship in Solaris. 

 

But she was no longer alone in the room. "Selvas. I had not expected the Sesarin to arrive early." He carried the somewhat agitated tone she had noted in all the Asersin checking the ship, this particular voice belonging to an equal. "Telsir, have your people taken so long to ensure the function of the Command?" she said mockingly, with all intent clearly lost on the engineer, "Of course not, I merely need to activate the Reactor; initial activation must be carried out from this chamber." he began to turn out of the leaders' section, "Wait but a while longer, the weapon will be tested once we are free of the Gantry." With that comment, he left the section.

 

"The Sirvenal begins final pre-launch procedure in 40 minutes."

She had decided against waiting for the test to investigate the Laser. Now sitting at the control console for it, she looked over its specifications; words and phrases that meant nothing to her, being written only for the eyes of Asersin and Solvarin. But she did know one thing; higher numbers generally meant good things for such devices, and this weapon had very high numbers. Before she could investigate the device further, however, she was again interrupted, managing to catch the symbols of the Arsiren and Solvarin on their suits. "Sesarin!" shouted the Solvarin, "These are not meant for your use! Cease this before you damage the device!" 

 

She recognized the voice instantly, belonging to yet another equal of hers; she turned away from the console, "The device is under my control Selat. Would you challenge me?" She stood up to punctuate the question, looming over the much smaller males, "Talsen," she said, looking towards, and recognizing, the Arsiren alongside Selat, "You would know better for his health than to allow such?" Talsen's response is cut off by the raised talons of Selat, "Selvas. You know better than to threaten." If he was one of her own, she would already have seen him brought down; she had already raised he claw to strike. 

 

But she backed down, and quietly stepped away. As she returned to the leader's section, she heard Talsen replace his stun device on its mount. Clearly, he remembered last time just as well as she. 

 

"The Sirvenal begins final pre-launch procedure in 10 minutes."

There was little else to do now but wait. Her duties would become relevant only once well-beyond Solaris. Her equals, however, were now closing in on the completion of their final preparations. The last of the Station's Asersin being replaced by those chosen, Talsen organizing his hydrocultures, Selat assuredly finding some way to make himself inconvenient. Her Sesarin had been prepared long in advance, every day spent in preparation. They needed no further guidance now. And so, she found herself alone with the Kir Irseres; who likewise had little do, the role of her people quite unnecessary while the Sirvenal sat in dock.

 

"Selthen." started Selvas, "Your people are prepared, yes?" Selthen hesitated several moments before responding, "As well as can be." Another few moments of hesitation, "They leave their lives, some, even children, for this, Selvas. See that they live to return to them." It wasn't a warning, if only because the Iseres knew better than to threaten a Sesarin, but a solemn pact; there could be no mistakes.

 

Some time passed then, with nothing more said between them, as the rest of the crew finished the final preparations and took their positions. A tense silence, and the various sounds of the consoles filled the room. And then it came, 

 

"Sirvenal docking mechanism disengaged. Standard Propulsion activation authorized. May you be honored."

The room leaped into activity, crew members now bringing the Propulsion online, filling the room with the low thrum of the plasma drives as the ship slowly moved away from the Station. The first to speak was Telsir, "Are we clear of the Station?" The Solvarin controlling the Navigational systems responded after a few moments of studying his console, "Yes Kir Telsir." Telsir looked to Selat, who merely gestured passively, and Telsir, seeing no objections from the other Kir, said "Engage subluminal Spatial Drive; Solaris VIII."

 

Just over two hours later, the Ship came to rest safely in orbit of the cold, lifeless rock that was Solaris VIII. Waiting for them, was another ship, this one a much humbler design, a simple resource freighter bearing the symbol of the Congress. It sent out a single, final message, "There is nothing more for you here, Sirvenal. May you be honored." 

 

Selvas looked to her fellow Kir. She couldn't see their faces behind the isolated optics that made up the visors of the pressure suits, but none displayed any fear. "We have our course." Said Selat, earning a curt nod from Telsir, and the response of Talsen, "It seems it is time to leave, then." None could disagree. Selat stood from his seat, and turned to face the crew of the Bridge, "Engage the Superluminal Spatial Drive."

 

~~~~

 

Selvas awoke to a roaring siren, and the cold metal of the Ship's hull. After a brief check to ensure her pressure suit was not breached, she forced herself off the floor, fighting nausea on the way up. As she unsteadily took to her feet, she shouted, "Telsir, what has happened?" It took several moments for a response to come, Telsir managing to briefly extract his attention from the ruined console that formerly controlled the ship's Spatial Drive. "The same as has been happening since we left Solaris. Worsening Spatial Warp and precision has damaged the ship." steadying herself on a ruined bit of wall, she, for the fifth time in as many days, suppressed the urge to simply shoot the Asersin and attempt to disable the device herself. She took a quick look around the room, seeing several others in similar situation to herself, Talsen tending to a wounded Solvarin, and the display lattice continuing to indicate that the ship was accelerating, if the incrementing number meant what Telsir had said.

 

"Why does the device remain active, Asersin?" Telsir managed to ignore the insult that was the refusal of his name, and responded after a few more moments of fiddling with bits of console, "The device remains out of my control. I will not risk lives attempting to disable it manually." Selvas could now find vastly fewer reasons to not simply shoot him. "You are a coward, Asersin. The device remaining active threatens us all." With that, she made her way out of the command section, forcing open the half of the door that had remained in the warped frame.

 

It seemed that the rest of the ship had fared the most recent incident equally poorly, with the hallways between the command section and the spatial drive warped far beyond their design, and strained such that was obvious even to the Sesarin. But, she managed to find enough traversalable rooms to make her way to the Spatial drive, and forced aside an Asersin who had the misfortune of being in her way while attempting to survey the extent of the Damage.

 

The spatial drive itself had become contorted to an impossible degree, a growing and shifting mass of fractals and anomalies with no place in reality. But the devastation of physical laws before her meant very little to Selvas, having never studied such things. She simply took her electromagnetic rifle off its mount, leveled it at the most coherent section of the Drive, and fired. The ship was immediately filled with the screech of tearing metal. But it stopped, as quickly as it came, and the spatial drive became little more than a contorted, but now entirely compliant with physical laws, mass of metal, glass, and composite. 

 

Selvas quickly made her way to the console at the back of the room, flicked on the switch labeled 'bridge communications', and said "Is the drive disabled, Telsir?" The line was quiet for a moment, with only the murmur of the other crew on the bridge audible for several seconds, "Yes. What have you done to it Selvas?" She elected not to answer, remaining silent until Telsir took the line again, "Just, return immediately. The drive section is suffering a minor depressurization, and it must be sealed off quickly."

 

As she returned to the bridge, it became clear that the Drive section was not alone in suffering such damages. Several more automatic bulkheads sealed as she passed, and surely more in sections she did not traverse. The bridge itself had become host to a improvised infirmary, with Arsirsen drifting among the injured while those unharmed attempted to make themselves either useful or scarce. She did not, however, have time to find Telsir, before being intercepted by Talsen, "Selvas! Quickly, are any of your people missing?" She takes a brief look around the room, counting 73 Selan, the ship's entire crew, "No, Talsen, it seems all have been accounted for." Talsen responds with some inaudible statement, before rushing off towards a group of injured Sesarin.

 

Several minutes later, the Kir of the ship manage to assemble themselves in an unoccupied part of the room. Telsir opened the discussion with a panic, "All sections of the ship are losing pressurization. There are not enough systems operational to determine the origin of most of the damage, and there is simply not enough time to repair it." Selthen raises her talons for calm, "There must be something that can be done. The Irseres can learn what they must, the Solvarin, and possible the Sesarin may also be able, having designed the ship, and understanding the importance of maintenance among themselves." Selat interjects before Selvas can speak, "There isn't enough equipment to do so, and even were there, the Aserin hall is among the most damaged areas, to open it would kill us all."

 

The group is silent for a few seconds, before Selat again breaks the silence, "Yet, there may yet be a chance. The Sirvenal retains its optical systems, and I believe that we are quite far from alone in this system." Telsir is again, quick to despair, "They could not reach us in time, surely. Those without functional pressure suits," he gestures towards the improvised infirmary dominating the room, "Would die certainly, and even those with cannot survive more than two hours, at best." She had her own concerns, which she made certain to express before Selat could assuage Telsir's, "And we are to believe they would help us? They know nothing of us; surely they would see a vessel as ours as little more than salvage, and simply wait for our deaths to take it?"

 

Selthen cut off Selat's response to that as well, "We have little choice in this. Its either that we attempt this, or we all surely die." Selat shouts after this, seemingly for little reason other than to secure his chance to speak, "We may have difficulty in communication, we cannot expect them to understand us, but it is a simple task to ensure that they know we are here. We have no choice in this." Telsir is quick to agree, "Yes, yes, we must.", as is Talsen, "The injured have no chance beyond this. We can do nothing more for them without access to the Arsiren hall."

 

And so the decision was made. Selat took to the Communications console, pulling aside a few Solvarin attempting to assist the Arsiren. Together, they quickly come up with a simple strategy of communication, a simple string of sounds, unable to be dismissed as simple radiation or interference; the first 20 prime numbers, in sequence, 2, 3, 5, 11, 15, 21, 25, 31, 35, 45, 51, 101, 105, 111, 115, 125, 135, 141, 151, and 155******. The sequence is locked-in, and broadcast on loop. And now, there is little else to be done but wait.

 


* Meaning 'Inheritor', because that totally wasn't obvious from the title of the thread.

** A double-secure section is one that will be unaffected if the outer sections of a vessel or construct are breached. Pressure Suits are generally only worn in these sections by the excessively paranoid, or when the outer sections are depressurized.

*** A term with an inaccurate implication. She is actually moving towards the center of the Station, but away from the strongest Gravity. The term, however, merely means that she is moving towards the single-secure non-residential sections of the Station.

**** An honorific usually granted to those outstanding among the Tribes. The leaders of the Sirvenal are granted it as they are going to be leading the first Selan in memory outside of the system, among other similarly obvious reasons. It should be noted that the Selan do not use a traditional ranking system, and thus the title confers nothing more than respect, which, as is the nature of Selan society, goes quite far.

***** Hey, anyone here heard of a Leyden Ball? It's like that, but it's a Gauss Gun.

****** These are the Senary Primes, in case anyone is confused. You're going to want to take that into account.

 

Should be noted, this is taking place in High Orbit of whatever you people call Mars.

Edited by Solaris Congress
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OOC:  As requested lol

 

-snip-
 
The group is silent for a few seconds, before Selat again breaks the silence, "Yet, there may yet be a chance. The Sirvenal retains its optical systems, and I believe that we are quite far from alone in this system." Telsir is again, quick to despair, "They could not reach us in time, surely. Those without functional pressure suits," he gestures towards the improvised infirmary dominating the room, "Would die certainly, and even those with cannot survive more than two hours, at best." She had her own concerns, which she made certain to express before Selat could assuage Telsir's, "And we are to believe they would help us? They know nothing of us; surely they would see a vessel as ours as little more than salvage, and simply wait for our deaths to take it?"
 
Selthen cut off Selat's response to that as well, "We have little choice in this. Its either that we attempt this, or we all surely die." Selat shouts after this, seemingly for little reason other than to secure his chance to speak, "We may have difficulty in communication, we cannot expect them to understand us, but it is a simple task to ensure that they know we are here. We have no choice in this." Telsir is quick to agree, "Yes, yes, we must.", as is Talsen, "The injured have no chance beyond this. We can do nothing more for them without access to the Arsiren hall."
 
And so the decision was made. Selat took to the Communications console, pulling aside a few Solvarin attempting to assist the Arsiren. Together, they quickly come up with a simple strategy of communication, a simple string of sounds, unable to be dismissed as simple radiation or interference; the first 20 prime numbers, in sequence, 2, 3, 5, 11, 15, 21, 25, 31, 35, 45, 51, 101, 105, 111, 115, 125, 135, 141, 151, and 155******. The sequence is locked-in, and broadcast on loop. And now, there is little else to be done but wait.
 
* Meaning 'Inheritor', because that totally wasn't obvious from the title of the thread.
** A double-secure section is one that will be unaffected if the outer sections of a vessel or construct are breached. Pressure Suits are generally only worn in these sections by the excessively paranoid, or when the outer sections are depressurized.
*** A term with an inaccurate implication. She is actually moving towards the center of the Station, but away from the strongest Gravity. The term, however, merely means that she is moving towards the single-secure non-residential sections of the Station.
**** An honorific usually granted to those outstanding among the Tribes. The leaders of the Sirvenal are granted it as they are going to be leading the first Selan in memory outside of the system, among other similarly obvious reasons. It should be noted that the Selan do not use a traditional ranking system, and thus the title confers nothing more than respect, which, as is the nature of Selan society, goes quite far.
***** Hey, anyone here heard of a Leyden Ball? It's like that, but it's a Gauss Gun.
****** These are the Senary Primes, in case anyone is confused. You're going to want to take that into account.

 

 

 

GIS Bane of Ozymandias

 

There was a hiss and a scowl.

 

A pair of slanted eyes remained fixated on a viewscreen.

 

"Captain!"  The owner of those eyes announced.  "We are approaching the most populated world, as ordered.  Sensors indicate a vessel broadcasting a distress signal of some sort.  Permission to deploy fighters to investigate?"

 

"We would need permission from the Human Commodore, Tactical."  The Captain hissed back, his forked tongue whipping out of his mouth as he also stared at the image on the screen.  "I don't recognize that ship.  Archivist!  Our database..."

"The Imperial Database, and the updated records provided by our new affiliates, have no recollection of such a ship either, Sir."

The Captain shook his head.  "Intelligence gave us our landing coordinates, and I do not intend to dismiss our orders.  Communications!  Inform the Commodore that our ship is breaking off.  We will rejoin the flotilla shortly."

 

"Sir, two Intruders have split off to assist us."

 

"And risk the colonists?  That's generous of him.  Remind me to thank the Human later.  All hands, prepare for micro J-"

 

"Captain!  If I may..."  The Archivist spoke.  "Intelligence reported that the vast majority of beings in this sector of space are human.  Perhaps it is wiser to deploy our human personnel first.  Perhaps we can send the Shofixti as well since they most resemble the creatures that are native to Earth."

 

"...  Are you saying the glorious Garthan form is unfit for standing before hu-"

"Not all all, Captain.  ...  It may simply be wise for us to refrain from revealing our magnificence, as the humans may be unable to truly appreciate it."

 

The Tactical Officer rose up from his chair, approaching his Captain to whisper a few words while the rest of the bridge crew sat silently.

 

"I...  I see.  Perhaps we should sacrifice them first."  The Captain muttered.

 

The Tactical Officer smacked himself in the face.  The robust arms of his Garthan form ensured that the smack could be heard across the bridge.

 

"Well, there is that."  The Archivist chuckled nervously.

 

------------

 

Instead of jumping closer to the world, the Garthan Light Carrier Bane of Ozymandias deployed several dozens of fighters.  As the Garthan concept of a fighter was significantly large (60 meters), thus the perfect size for stuffing a dozen people into it and ramming into some poor unsuspecting ship as part of an elaborate boarding operation, each 'fighter' contained a dozen personnel.

 

After all, some room had to be left for any priso-, capt-, or hapless refugees in need of rescue.

 

These fighters found themselves flying around a single Vux Intruder, which barreled ahead and among them to reach the doomed ship first.

 

Even with the Bridge Crew's commands, only a handful of each fighter's Marines were human.  The rest were sired from either the mighty gene line of the Garthans or the furred Shofixti.  Garthan and Shofixti believed in displays of dominance, but those vulnerable humans with their pathetic carapace and eyesight might help soothe any other humans on that fallen vessel.

 

As such, Selat and the rest of their team may have seen a 350 meter long, blue colored ship approach.  That ship was immediately followed by dozens of wedge shaped orange craft about a fifth of the initial ship's size. 

Edited by Shex

"The world is a comedy to those that think; a tragedy to those that feel." - Horace Walpole

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Instead of jumping closer to the world, the Garthan Light Carrier Bane of Ozymandias deployed several dozens of fighters.  As the Garthan concept of a fighter was significantly large (60 meters), thus the perfect size for stuffing a dozen people into it and ramming into some poor unsuspecting ship as part of an elaborate boarding operation, each 'fighter' contained a dozen personnel.

After all, some room had to be left for any priso-, capt-, or hapless refugees in need of rescue.

These fighters found themselves flying around a single Vux Intruder, which barreled ahead and among them to reach near the downed ship first.

 

For a short while, it seemed like their call for aid might go unnoticed by... whatever it was that the Sensors were looking at. However, it wasn't long before something clearly alters its trajectory towards the Sirvenal.

 

Selat, who had been growing increasingly agitated while monitoring the sensors, lets out an audible sigh of relief. Telsir, utterly misinterpreting it, responds with "Save your breath, Selat. You will need it soon enough." This earns a quick stare of bewilderment from Selat, the expression ultimately pointless as it was invisible behind the helmet of his pressure suit. 

 

Selvas, while the others begin preparing the injured to be moved, gathering emergency respiration equipment and what medical supplies can be salvaged, merely watches the display lattice as the 'something' move nearer, revealing themselves in higher-resolution, and quite distinctly as several 'somethings'. "Selat," she starts, "You did not mention this." Selat quickly turns to the lattice, then back to Selvas, "Well, the sensors are quite damaged, I cannot anticipate everything with such poor equipment." To which Telsir interjects "I'm sure I could improve the resolution, the Optics are still... mostly, functional."

 

Selvas returns to the lattice as the two debate various strategies for repairing the ship. Slowly it becomes very clear that the objects are some form of extremely large ship, and not only that, but that they are moving in formation. Nothing moves in formation without reason. And this was distinctly a combat formation, not dissimilar from those utilized by fighters in the Elder War; and she shudders at the thought.

 

She turns back to her collected Sesarin. "Follow me." Then turns back to Selat. "Where will they dock?" Selat is momentarily taken aback, but glances at the display, and responds almost as a matter of autopilot; "The Transfer Lock, it is the most easily accessible section as the hull breaches are quite small." Now knowing her goal, she exits the Command section, leaving Selat momentarily quite confused, before a realization suddenly dawns; "Don't shoot them Selvas!" One of the exiting Sesarin stops to respond in her stead; "We have no intention of doing so if they pose no threat."

Edited by Solaris Congress
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BPS Infinite Decorum

 

"Captain, it appears the mysterious vessel has opened up an airlock."

 

"Have a few of the fighters dock with us while the rest assume a defensive formation around both our ships.  I want to make sure we have some humans to speak with them.  Few humans can...  Appreciate...  The beauty of the Vux."

 

A number of fighters proceeded to link up with the Infinite Decorum.  The human, Garthan, and Shofixti marines within joined their Vux colleagues.

 

The huge Vux Intruder proceeded to attach itself to the Sirvenal.

 

As the doors opened, the people of Solaris would see a number of figures emerge into their ship.

 

Some would look more human.  Others would resemble...

 

Walking rats in armored suits..

 

Bipedal turtles in similar suits.

 

And...  Tentacle creatures from human myth.  (Gorgon-esque)...  In fairly similar suits.  (It's the helmet, Vux helmets are somewhat wider and have slight protrusions for the face tentacles in cases of severe shock and stillness.)

 

Fire Warrior Armor example:

 

FW2.JPG

 

At their head was a human who immediately rose his arms to reveal that he was unarmed.  Behind him, several of his colleagues stood with rifles pointed at the ground.  A couple of them were Vux with far less mobile suits, but they too were weaponized and ready for combat.  Although in peacetime their spiky armored suits could serve as glorified coat hangars and some form of puncturing tool.

Edited by Shex

"The world is a comedy to those that think; a tragedy to those that feel." - Horace Walpole

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A number of fighters proceeded to link up with the Infinite Decorum.  The human, Garthan, and Shofixti marines within joined their Vux colleagues.

The huge Vux Intruder proceeded to attach itself to the Sirvenal.

As the doors opened, the people of Solaris would see a number of figures emerge into their ship.

Some would look more human.  Others would resemble... Walking rats in armored suits...  Bipedal turtles in similar suits.

And...  Tentacle creatures from human myth...  In fairly similar suits.  

 

At their head was a human who immediately rose his arms to reveal that he was unarmed.  Behind him, several of his colleagues stood with rifles pointed at the ground.  A couple of them were Vux with far less mobile suits, but they too were weaponized and ready for combat.  Although in peacetime their spiky armored suits could serve as glorified coat hangars and some form of puncturing tool.

 

Unfortunately for the Brotherhood personnel, the Selan were not quite so willing to display peace. After a few seconds of seemingly empty Airlock, several Sesarin, with their red and blue armored pressure suits reveal themselves behind hasty barricades of stacked storage and structural supports displaced by the Spatial Drive, each one leveling a sort of firearm at the Human leading the group, aside a small shield, rendering many of them quite difficult to see behind their defenses.

 

Selvas stands at the center of this formation, identifiable from the others only by the two peices of metal hanging from the bottom-right of her helmet, and the only one of them not situated behind some manner of cover. Clearly, they weren't expecting resistance, those few who are armed stand without attention, their leader frozen in some display, likely some form of order. 

 

This stalemate, however, is quickly broken by Selat's entrance. To an observer, he merely gesticulates wildly, his words neither meant for the Brotherhood personnel, or able to be heard outside of the pressure suit, "Sesarin! Lower your weapons! There is no time for this madness!" He is quickly joined by the voice of Talsen, still in the command section; "We are preparing to move the injured. Resolve this quickly or there is no hope for their survival."

 

Selvas makes a half-turn toward the Airlock's entrance, still dominated by the generally diminutive Solvarin. She remains this way for several seconds, before turning away, and aiming her weapon away from the Brotherhood personnel, towards the ceiling. The passive stance is adopted by the rest of the Sesarin, though they retain their defensive positions.

 

With this particular difficulty now surpassed, Selat takes Selvas' side at the head of the group, and... stands there like a fool, having absolutely no idea how to communicate with these newcomers.

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Two of the Brotherhood marines began raising their weapons upon seeing the sheer number of small arms pointed at the lead human, but once the potential hostiles were called off, they lowered their guns again.

 

"Erm, hello there..."  The human called out, although his words seemed lost on the mysterious vessel's inhabitants.  "You seemed to need some help."  He spoke again, but they did not respond.

 

"Report!"  The Captain of the Infinite Decorum yelled out on the comm channel.

 

"We're fine, sir."  The lead human replied, muted from the outside as he glanced nervously back at the Selan.  "But it appears they do not understand our broadcasts thus far."

 

The Captain remained silent as he considered the situation.

 

"We should try using imagery."  One of the marines offered.  "That might help.  Bring the man a notepad!"

 

A Vux engineer in a far less armored pressure suit emerged from the ship.  He was completely unarmed, although the Selans would no doubt find it strange that a tentacled being was handing some flat, rectangular object over to the human, along with a smaller cylindrical thing.

 

"Pen and pad should work fine."  The engineer huffed as he crossed his tendrils.

 

The human began by drawing a broken electrical wire, complete with a few basic sparks.  He thrust the image forward at the Selans for a few moments, then proceeded to point animatedly at the Infinite Decorum, and quickly drew a second, fixed wire next to the damaged one.  During this time, none of his armed fellows moved, watching their ally and the movements of the unknown personnel.

Edited by Shex

"The world is a comedy to those that think; a tragedy to those that feel." - Horace Walpole

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A Vux engineer in a far less armored pressure suit emerged from the ship.  He was completely unarmed, although the Selans would no doubt find it strange that a tentacled being was handing some flat, rectangular object over to the human, along with a smaller cylindrical thing.

 

The human began by drawing a broken electrical wire, complete with a few basic sparks.  He thrust the image forward at the Selans for a few moments, then proceeded to point animatedly at the Infinite Decorum, and quickly drew a second, fixed wire next to the damaged one.  During this time, none of his armed fellows moved, watching their ally and the movements of the unknown personnel.

 

Selat, seeing the pad and pen for what it is, quickly retrieves his own set from a pocket, and examines the images produced by the bizarre creature before him; It drew lines. And then a few more. All hope was lost, he was clearly not dealing with intelligent life. Selvas, on the other hand vaguely recognizes the lines, taking a few seconds to stare at her electromagnetic rifle to figure out exactly why. 

 

And then it comes to her; they're a crude rendition of the images on the maintenance sheet for the weapon. "I believe they're called... wiring, Selat." He continues to stare at the notepad for a few seconds, before coming to the same realization, and opening the channel back to the Command section, "Telsir, come to the transfer lock immediately, I believe we may have some method of communication." With that, he stabilizes the Notepad on the shield of a nearby Sesarin, who makes a point of glaring at the Solvarin while he does so, and produces what will hopefully project the seriousness of the situation.

 

He turns back to the newcomers, and shows them the Notepad; A quite intricate rendition of the Sirvenal, with a few holes in it, and several crude stickfigures with various limbs missing inside the ship.

Edited by Solaris Congress
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He turns back to the newcomers, and shows them the Notepad; A quite intricate rendition of the Sirvenal, with a few holes in it, and several crude stickfigures with various limbs missing inside the ship.

 

A few of the marines were just about to palm their faces when they noticed what their 'diplomat' was drawing, but once the other party began to draw images in response, everyone's eye(s) were wide.

 

"Away Team to Infinite Decorum, bring us Gurneys, Bandages, and Medical Gauze.  They have wounded, and we will need to transport them."

 

As if united in a fluid motion, some of the nurses and available engineering staff came running with the necessary materials at hand.  Hover Gurneys hurled forth from sickbay, ready to retrieve new patients.

 

As the Gurneys were shoved through the airlock first, their appearance may have surprised the Selans.  The human quickly drew his own wounded stick figures and pointed repeatedly at the Gurneys, while the rest of the engineers and nurses carrying medical supplies came barreling through.  The human took one box of bandages, pointed at the images on the container, and then placed it on the ground.  He immediately slid it over to the Selans, making sure that the rest of his colleagues continued to hold onto the containers in case they were believed to be explosives.

"The world is a comedy to those that think; a tragedy to those that feel." - Horace Walpole

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A few of the marines were just about to palm their faces when they noticed what their 'diplomat' was drawing, but once the other party began to draw images in response, everyone's eye(s) were wide.

 

As if united in a fluid motion, some of the nurses and available engineering staff came running with the necessary materials at hand.  Hover Gurneys hurled forth from sickbay, ready to retrieve new patients.

 

As the Gurneys were shoved through the airlock first, their appearance may have surprised the Selans.  The human quickly drew his own wounded stick figures and pointed repeatedly at the Gurneys, while the rest of the engineers and nurses carrying medical supplies came barreling through.  The human took one box of bandages, pointed at the images on the container, and then placed it on the ground.  He immediately slid it over to the Selans, making sure that the rest of his colleagues continued to hold onto the containers in case they were believed to be explosives.

 

The box is reacted to with what Selat certainly hopes was an expected hostility from the Sesarin, who promptly re-assumed their positions. Selat, being vastly more trusting, simply grabs up and opens the box, showing the contents to Selvas, who quickly waves down the Sesarin, who return to their passive positions as quickly as they had left them. "Selvas", starts Selat, "We need to get the injured off the ship. These people will assist with the... erm..." He trails off as he realizes that the gurneys, were, in fact, hovering under their own power. "Er, yes, they will need assistance finding the Command section."

 

To which Selvas gestures towards the Sesarin formerly serving as a writing desk, "Bring the..." She looks back at the newcomers "Creatures, to the Command Section. Ensure that at least one remains within arms reach. I suspect they are unwilling to kill their own." The Sesarin gives a quick nod, and gestures to the Brotherhood Medical staff to follow him as he leaves the room. Telsir enters the room immediately afterward, and briefly marvels at the hovering gurneys before taking the side of Selat.

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-snip-

 

To which Selvas gestures towards the Sesarin formerly serving as a writing desk, "Bring the..." She looks back at the newcomers "Creatures, to the Command Section. Ensure that at least one remains within arms reach. I suspect they are unwilling to kill their own." The Sesarin gives a quick nod, and gestures to the Brotherhood Medical staff to follow him as he leaves the room. Telsir enters the room immediately afterward, and briefly marvels at the hovering gurneys before taking the side of Selat.

 

With a nod, the human leader who carried various medical supplies, and the rest of the medical staff followed their mysterious counterparts.  The marines continued standing at their posts by the doorway, watching their brethren move deeper into the ship.  While they would not follow, they were also prepared to immediately charge forward should violence occur.

 

May the creator be kind enough to avoid allowing violence to occur!

 

At this time, the Bane of Ozymandias and the other Intruder rapidly approached the hapless ship.  But, seeing the sheer number of Garthan "fighters" and the Infinite Decorum docked to it, the Carrier and its escort came to a complete stop a short distance away from the Selan vessel, and waited.

 

Perhaps the Selan would recognize a sister ship of the one that was docked to their own, and would therefore not be too alarmed.

"The world is a comedy to those that think; a tragedy to those that feel." - Horace Walpole

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With a nod, the human leader who carried various medical supplies, and the rest of the medical staff followed their mysterious counterparts.  The marines continued standing at their posts by the doorway, watching their brethren move deeper into the ship.  While they would not follow, they were also prepared to immediately charge forward should violence occur.

May the creator be kind enough to avoid allowing violence to occur!

At this time, the Bane of Ozymandias and the other Intruder rapidly approached the hapless ship.  But, seeing the sheer number of Garthan "fighters" and the Infinite Decorum docked to it, the Carrier and its escort came to a complete stop a short distance away from the Selan vessel, and waited.

Perhaps the Selan would recognize a sister ship of the one that was docked to their own, and would therefore not be too alarmed.

 

The Sesarin lead the creatures and their contraptions through the various vaugely-functional passages of the Ship, dodging the occasional pieces of of metal jutting out at odd angles as he went, eventually reaching the entrance of the Command Section. With this task completed, he takes up overwatch near the entrance, weapon always at the ready, while the Arsiren finish preparations to begin moving the injured.

 

Back in the transfer lock, Selat and Telsir attempt to draw up an explanation of exactly what exactly is going to be, using a now-unoccupied crate to support the notepad. After a short while of this they return to the newcomers and present their most recent construction; a yet more unnecessarily intricate representation of the Sirvenal, with the injured demonstrated in the earlier image transposed onto a quite vauge representation of the Infinite Decorum, and two rooms in the Sirvenal, labelled with a replica of the interpretation of medical supplies used earlier by the brotherhood, and a rather hasty, though carefully, and incomprehensibly, labelled rendition of a DNA fragment, respectively, each room with several uninjured figure in it.

Edited by Solaris Congress
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-snip-

 

Back in the transfer lock, Selat and Telsir attempt to draw up an explanation of exactly what exactly is going to be, using a now-unoccupied crate to support the notepad. After a short while of this they return to the newcomers and present their most recent construction; a yet more unnecessarily intricate representation of the Sirvenal, with the injured demonstrated in the earlier image transposed onto a quite vauge representation of the Infinite Decorum, and two rooms in the Sirvenal, labelled with a replica of the interpretation of medical supplies used earlier by the brotherhood, and a rather hasty, though carefully, and incomprehensibly, labelled rendition of a DNA fragment, respectively, each room with several uninjured figure in it.

 

The Bro personnel were not completely sure what the Selans wanted, but they attempted to take mental notes of the DNA strand referenced in the rendition.  However, the injured took priority.  As such, they gingerly attempted to aid their counterparts in placing wounded personnel on the gurneys, and slowly had the gurneys withdraw back to the ship.  The gurneys were traveling at an extremely slow pace as to avoid any further harm, and as such any armed personnel could easily follow them or even intercept them as necessary.

 

The injured who blocked what appeared to be the medical storage room took priority of course, as if access to that room was freed it was very likely that fewer personnel would need to be transferred to the Infinite Decorum.

 

The human 'leader' continued to request that Gurneys be sent, but understandably the Infinite Decorum did not anticipate a 'humanitarian crisis' of this magnitude.

 

Eventually, one of the medical staff drew the sister ship of the Infinite Decorum, while copying the rendition of the Sirvenal and the Decorum docked to it.  The staffer drew a tube of some kind that extended from the sister vessel, and looked questioningly at his counterpart, hoping to convey that a second ship could dock and as such expedite the process.

Edited by Shex

"The world is a comedy to those that think; a tragedy to those that feel." - Horace Walpole

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Eventually, one of the medical staff drew the sister ship of the Infinite Decorum, while copying the rendition of the Sirvenal and the Decorum docked to it.  The staffer drew a tube of some kind that extended from the sister vessel, and looked questioningly at his counterpart, hoping to convey that a second ship could dock and as such expedite the process.

 

Now it was Telsir's turn to be confused, if, for different reasons. While were several small airlocks, the Sirvenal had only a single dock; and unless the newcomers lacked external sensors, or, the ship had taken significantly greater, and more conveniently shaped, damage than believed, this would surely be something known to them. He took the Notepad from Selat, and quickly sketched the transfer lock of the Sirvenal, and the ship attached to it, briefly checking the newcomer's image to add details missed in the previous rendition, as well as the second ship, with a single vertical line through it.

 

As he shows this to the Newcomers, however, Talsen enters the room alongside a set of returning hover-gurneys, "Selat, Telsir! What is this? We have no time for- for games!" As Telsir holds the Notepad, Selat responds, "It is communication, Talsen, of a sort." Anything further is cut off, as Talsen rushes Telsir, and snatches the Notepad away from him, quickly putting together a vastly more complex, if, still hastily done rendition of the transfer lock, showing several Selan figures, no longer mere sticks, following the Gurneys into the Brotherhood ship, and shows that to the Newcomers.

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BPS Exuberant Grooming

 

The Communications Officer on this mighty Vux Intruder, sister ship of the Infinite Decorum and fellow escort for the Bane of Ozymandias, received a most unpleasant transmission.

 

"Negative, Exuberant Grooming.  You will be unable to dock with the troubled ship."

 

"You did claim that there seem to be too many casualties for the Infinite Decorum to handle, didn't you?  Don't tell me we just attach our ship to yo-"

 

"There's no other way.  On the plus side, we just might get the chance to study them too, as I doubt there are enough of them to monitor every patient at once."

 

"Roger that.  We'll start the docking process immediately."  The Communications Officer cut the transmission, and after a quick report to the ship's Captain this Intruder began to attach itself to its fellow.

 

BPS Infinite Decorum, Docking Chamber

 

The Gurneys came floating in, and as the Selans followed their people into the dock, a few other Engineers attempted to get their attention.  They showed the new arrivals a small holo-projector, displaying a wire frame of the Infinite Decorum and, within it, a number of rooms that were glowing red after a number of Gurneys entered each of them.  As more Gurneys began to enter the ship, they were suddenly redirected towards another dock on the ship, which further displayed the Gurneys entering the hull of yet another Intruder.

 

"Docking Procedures Complete!  Let's get these people to the Exuberant Grooming as well!"

 

As a number of Sesarin followed the patients to the rooms, only to note that they were beginning to get rather crowded, others found the Gurneys continuing towards another dock and, consequentially, entering them to reveal the docking bay of yet another Brotherhood ship.  Gurney and escorting medical staff understandably had to dodge more incoming Gurneys and staff from the Exuberant Grooming as more patients were extracted from the Sirvenal.

Edited by Shex

"The world is a comedy to those that think; a tragedy to those that feel." - Horace Walpole

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  • 2 weeks later...

>last post was 9 days ago

i'm good at activity i swear

 

BPS Exuberant Grooming

The Gurneys came floating in, and as the Selans followed their people into the dock, a few other Engineers attempted to get their attention.  They showed the new arrivals a small holo-projector, displaying a wire frame of the Infinite Decorum and, within it, a number of rooms that were glowing red after a number of Gurneys entered each of them.  As more Gurneys began to enter the ship, they were suddenly redirected towards another dock on the ship, which further displayed the Gurneys entering the hull of yet another Intruder.

 

As a number of Sesarin followed the patients to the rooms, only to note that they were beginning to get rather crowded, others found the Gurneys continuing towards another dock and, consequentially, entering them to reveal the docking bay of yet another Brotherhood ship.  Gurney and escorting medical staff understandably had to dodge more incoming Gurneys and staff from the Exuberant Grooming as more patients were extracted from the Sirvenal.

 

Fortunately, this process would proceed smoothly, though the occasional Sesarin insisting on patrolling between the two ships to ensure nothing suspicious was going on consistently inconvenienced operations, at least they had the sense to keep their hands well away from their weapons while onboard the newcomer's ships.

 

And now, with the Injured safely off the Ship, Selat took the Notepad once more, quickly sketching an outline of the plan; the Transfer Lock door closed once more, several doors in the Sirvenal open, and several non-descript boxes bearing the symbols from earlier being moved to the transfer lock. After displaying this, he moves away once more, and sketches another image, the Sirvenal's various doors closed once more, and the boxes now with the Injured on the somehow less-accurate sketches of the Invader Class vessels than before.

 

After displaying this second image, Selat passes the Notepad to Selvas, "Go onto their ship, await my signal." She stares at the notepad for several moments. "Are you entirely certain this is a good idea?" Selat's response is quite simple; he pushes her across the threshold, and closes the Transfer lock.

 

Selvas turns to the Newcomers and proceeds to stare at the apparent leader, the inscrutable visor of the Pressure Suit blocking out her death-glare quite nicely.

 

Onboard the Sirvenal, the Irseris, Asersin, and Solvarin, now the only remaining Selan onboard, spring into action, the various doors being opened, throwing more than a few loose pieces of metal and equipment from the ship as the decompression accelerates violently. The first duty is to recover the Asersin equipment, many of the doors to more important equipment needing to be forcibly returned to an open position, but this is handled as a matter of course. Quickly, the various crates and packages of equipment are gathered in the Transfer Lock, and what plants can still be salvaged from the Arsiren Hydroponic Stations are placed within the sealed-operation enclosures, originally intended for bio-engineering, the few still functional chambers now the best chance for any plants to not die.

 

Eventually, the process is complete. Selat stands in the Transfer Lock with his team, and brings up Selvas' channel on the Communications; "We're ready to transfer!" Selvas responds quite immediately "The door is controlled from the Sirvenal. What was the point of this?" Selat does not have a good answer for this, and elects to simply open the door.

 

Besides the angry Sesarin shoving her way past whoever had the misfortune of being between her and the crate she intended to pick up, the transfer of supplies went quickly, the patrolling Sesarin finally being useful in directing traffic to the necessary sections of the Brotherhood Ships. Selat, being possessed of neither medical expertise, nor significant physical strength, remains in the Transfer Lock, and sketches one last image on the Notepad, a few sentences in the language of Saesil; utterly unintelligible to the newcomers, followed by a handful of completely unrelated scribbling in an obvious attempt to replicate text from Brotherhood screens and equipment. Alongside this image, he produces a small, thread-bound, spineless book full of sketched-images and yet more unintelligible Saesil script.

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The Adenn’aaray, Grand Moff Vaiken’s flagship, Unexplored space

Justice 2-class dreadnought

 

 

 The Adenn’aaray, one of the greatest (and largest) ships the Akaata had at their disposal, as well as two heavily modified Vengeance-class battlecruisers, had been sent on a mission to explore a previously unknown region of space and create an outpost in the region. The bridge, which had been strikingly modern in design, was equipped with the best technology that money could buy, having high grade computers, sensors which could cover a distance of two light-years, and the best holograms the empire had available, to name a few. Since this was Grand Moff Vaiken’s flagship, it was outfitted with this equipment so that he would survive and not render the military leaderless. It was for this reason, as well, that it was accompanied by the twin Vengeance-class battlecruisers. Due to it’s size (the vessel being 40km in size), the resources for the outpost were stored in two of the port hangars, leaving at least 16 hangars for landing craft, fighters, bombers, construction ships, and the sort. The region that the ship had been sent to, while mostly uncharted, was not completely unknown. There had been transmissions from the region which had been picked up by the sensors of preliminary exploration ships that early exploration ships sent by the Akaata- transmissions that sparked their interest in the region, which leads to today, and the bridge of the Adenn’aaray, where two signatures appeared on the ship’s sensors.

“Sir, we have detected two heat signatures on our sensors. They are definitely not ours, but I am certain they are not of Aru’em make.†an officer, Lieutenant Kal Voc, reported.

“Very well… Try to get me an open channel with either ship’s commanders, preferably both, of course.†said Grand Moff Vaiken, whose medals shone upon his grey uniform, as he walked towards the front of the bridge.

“Of course sir, I will do as you wish.†Lieutenant Voc said. “Hang on… From what I can tell, it looks like the ship is possibly being evacuated.†he finished.

“Well… Prepare my shuttle. Also, get some supplies ready to transfer.†Vaiken said with concern for the crew of the stricken ship.

“Sir, the channel is open.†one of the communications officers said as Vaiken walked to back to the center of the bridge to send the message.

“Greetings at te crew be bintar ships. Bic has, unfortunately, olaror at ner Ke'sush' ibac ogir has been an incident aboard solus be gar vessels. Sa such, Ni cuy' going at offer whatever aid vi liser. Vor entye par gar ca'nara. Grand Moff Vaiken, dayn (Greetings to the crew of both ships. It has, unfortunately, come to my attention that there has been an incident aboard one of your vessels. As such, I am going to offer whatever aid we can. Thank you for your time. Grand Moff Vaiken, out.).†Vaiken said over several different forms of communication in the hopes that both ships would be able to receive it. Upon finishing, he ordered that the ship close to a distance of 60km from the ships, so that it might be in range to assist the ships.

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The Adenn’aaray, Grand Moff Vaiken’s flagship, Unexplored space

Justice 2-class dreadnought

 

 

 The Adenn’aaray, one of the greatest (and largest) ships the Akaata had at their disposal, as well as two heavily modified Vengeance-class battlecruisers, had been sent on a mission to explore a previously unknown region of space and create an outpost in the region. The bridge, which had been strikingly modern in design, was equipped with the best technology that money could buy, having high grade computers, sensors which could cover a distance of two light-years, and the best holograms the empire had available, to name a few. Since this was Grand Moff Vaiken’s flagship, it was outfitted with this equipment so that he would survive and not render the military leaderless. It was for this reason, as well, that it was accompanied by the twin Vengeance-class battlecruisers. Due to it’s size (the vessel being 40km in size), the resources for the outpost were stored in two of the port hangars, leaving at least 16 hangars for landing craft, fighters, bombers, construction ships, and the sort. The region that the ship had been sent to, while mostly uncharted, was not completely unknown. There had been transmissions from the region which had been picked up by the sensors of preliminary exploration ships that early exploration ships sent by the Akaata- transmissions that sparked their interest in the region, which leads to today, and the bridge of the Adenn’aaray, where two signatures appeared on the ship’s sensors.

“Sir, we have detected two heat signatures on our sensors. They are definitely not ours, but I am certain they are not of Aru’em make.†an officer, Lieutenant Kal Voc, reported.

“Very well… Try to get me an open channel with either ship’s commanders, preferably both, of course.†said Grand Moff Vaiken, whose medals shone upon his grey uniform, as he walked towards the front of the bridge.

“Of course sir, I will do as you wish.†Lieutenant Voc said. “Hang on… From what I can tell, it looks like the ship is possibly being evacuated.†he finished.

“Well… Prepare my shuttle. Also, get some supplies ready to transfer.†Vaiken said with concern for the crew of the stricken ship.

“Sir, the channel is open.†one of the communications officers said as Vaiken walked to back to the center of the bridge to send the message.

“Greetings at te crew be bintar ships. Bic has, unfortunately, olaror at ner Ke'sush' ibac ogir has been an incident aboard solus be gar vessels. Sa such, Ni cuy' going at offer whatever aid vi liser. Vor entye par gar ca'nara. Grand Moff Vaiken, dayn (Greetings to the crew of both ships. It has, unfortunately, come to my attention that there has been an incident aboard one of your vessels. As such, I am going to offer whatever aid we can. Thank you for your time. Grand Moff Vaiken, out.).†Vaiken said over several different forms of communication in the hopes that both ships would be able to receive it. Upon finishing, he ordered that the ship close to a distance of 60km from the ships, so that it might be in range to assist the ships.

 

 

 

GIS Bane of Ozymandius

 

"Captain!  A signal!"  The Communications Officer growled.

 

The Garthan light carrier had been observing the docking procedure carefully, but thus far there had been no complications....

 

Until now.

 

Command had only sent one other light Garthan Carrier, sister ship to the great Bane of Ozymandius, and a Seedship that had surely reached the Martian Colony by now.

 

And yet now the Bane of Ozymandius was the only thing standing between a flotilla of three massive vessels and the tiny Sirvenal.

 

Even from a distance of 60 km away, the new arrival was practically only its entire length's distant from the three docked ships and the Bane of Ozymandius.  At 40 kilometers long, the "Dreadnought" was literally hundreds of times larger than all four ships combined.

 

Even so, Garthans never stood down from a challenge!

 

"Captain, the translation algorithm is not processing the message properly."

 

"Curses, I knew we should have updated them at Sax's Gentle Hand.  The Mighty Garthan Imperium has never seen such a species before."

 

"...  The latest entry on these ships is vague, sir, but they are believed to hail from the nation of Chernigov.  Though that doesn't do us much good."

 

"Put that message on screen, Lieutenant.  Stop your babbling!"

 

"Yes, sir."  The Communications Officer tapped a few more buttons, and the following appeared on their ship's viewscreen:

 

 

“Greetings at te crew be bintar ships. Bic has, unfortunately, olaror at ner Ke'sush' ibac ogir has been an incident aboard solus be gar vessels. Sa such, Ni cuy' going at offer whatever aid vi liser. Vor entye par gar ca'nara. Grand Moff Vaiken, dayn"

 

**Translation processing...  Failure.  *Best fit* complete.**
 
"Happy Day To Many *bubbles*!  *Campers* are most *Frumple*, that is the case!  We are *spitting* with offer of *party*.  We thank you for *time*.   *Big Boss* will stop *spitting*."

 

 

"Don't tell me, they are Orz?"  The Captain's eyebrow ridge rose.

 

"Not quite, sir...  But the closest thing the Translator could give us was *Orzspeak.*"

 

"Great, just great.  Try formulating a response.  Hopefully they can understand us.  Use simplistic language if possible."

 

The following transmission was sent in response as the Bane of Ozymandius maneuvered itself so that it stood in between the Dreadnought and the Sirvenal.

 

"No Want Fight.  Everything Is Good.  There Is An Incident, But It Is Settled.  No Need Help.  No Want Fight!"

 

 

>last post was 9 days ago

i'm good at activity i swear

 

 

Fortunately, this process would proceed smoothly, though the occasional Sesarin insisting on patrolling between the two ships to ensure nothing suspicious was going on consistently inconvenienced operations, at least they had the sense to keep their hands well away from their weapons while onboard the newcomer's ships.

 

And now, with the Injured safely off the Ship, Selat took the Notepad once more, quickly sketching an outline of the plan; the Transfer Lock door closed once more, several doors in the Sirvenal open, and several non-descript boxes bearing the symbols from earlier being moved to the transfer lock. After displaying this, he moves away once more, and sketches another image, the Sirvenal's various doors closed once more, and the boxes now with the Injured on the somehow less-accurate sketches of the Invader Class vessels than before.

 

After displaying this second image, Selat passes the Notepad to Selvas, "Go onto their ship, await my signal." She stares at the notepad for several moments. "Are you entirely certain this is a good idea?" Selat's response is quite simple; he pushes her across the threshold, and closes the Transfer lock.

 

Selvas turns to the Newcomers and proceeds to stare at the apparent leader, the inscrutable visor of the Pressure Suit blocking out her death-glare quite nicely.

 

Onboard the Sirvenal, the Irseris, Asersin, and Solvarin, now the only remaining Selan onboard, spring into action, the various doors being opened, throwing more than a few loose pieces of metal and equipment from the ship as the decompression accelerates violently. The first duty is to recover the Asersin equipment, many of the doors to more important equipment needing to be forcibly returned to an open position, but this is handled as a matter of course. Quickly, the various crates and packages of equipment are gathered in the Transfer Lock, and what plants can still be salvaged from the Arsiren Hydroponic Stations are placed within the sealed-operation enclosures, originally intended for bio-engineering, the few still functional chambers now the best chance for any plants to not die.

 

Eventually, the process is complete. Selat stands in the Transfer Lock with his team, and brings up Selvas' channel on the Communications; "We're ready to transfer!" Selvas responds quite immediately "The door is controlled from the Sirvenal. What was the point of this?" Selat does not have a good answer for this, and elects to simply open the door.

 

Besides the angry Sesarin shoving her way past whoever had the misfortune of being between her and the crate she intended to pick up, the transfer of supplies went quickly, the patrolling Sesarin finally being useful in directing traffic to the necessary sections of the Brotherhood Ships. Selat, being possessed of neither medical expertise, nor significant physical strength, remains in the Transfer Lock, and sketches one last image on the Notepad, a few sentences in the language of Saesil; utterly unintelligible to the newcomers, followed by a handful of completely unrelated scribbling in an obvious attempt to replicate text from Brotherhood screens and equipment. Alongside this image, he produces a small, thread-bound, spineless book full of sketched-images and yet more unintelligible Saesil script.

 

Brotherhood staff stood curiously, some directing traffic for the storage of equipment from the Sirvenal.  Medical teams simply hand over equipment to their apparent counterparts after the patients appeared stable.

 

"Looks like he's making some sort of diary."  One of the engineers commented as he stared at Selat.  "See if we can coordinate any of their script with any of ours.  Replicate whatever characters they have, and let's see if the Algorithm can sort it out."

 

A few images and scans later, several viewscreens on Brotherhood decks begin to flash as the symbols are analyzed.  The database mysteriously begins to boot up Zorg script, as well as script from a few Human languages such as Chinese (Hanzi), Ancient Sumerian, and Ancient Egyptian.  The limited information on the latter two was little hindrance for the Computer's translation efforts, although they continued to analyze the script for some time...

 

OOC:  You haven't given us the book, so I'm assuming we mostly transferred materials and crew.

Edited by Shex

"The world is a comedy to those that think; a tragedy to those that feel." - Horace Walpole

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GIS Bane of Ozymandius

 

Brotherhood staff stood curiously, some directing traffic for the storage of equipment from the Sirvenal.  Medical teams simply hand over equipment to their apparent counterparts after the patients appeared stable.

 

"Looks like he's making some sort of diary."  One of the engineers commented as he stared at Selat.  "See if we can coordinate any of their script with any of ours.  Replicate whatever characters they have, and let's see if the Algorithm can sort it out."

 

A few images and scans later, several viewscreens on Brotherhood decks begin to flash as the symbols are analyzed.  The database mysteriously begins to boot up Zorg script, as well as script from a few Human languages such as Chinese (Hanzi), Ancient Sumerian, and Ancient Egyptian.  The limited information on the latter two was little hindrance for the Computer's translation efforts, although they continued to analyze the script for some time...

 

Selat, as the two newcomers conspire, shakes the dictionary vigorously at them, until the various screens begin to display a flurry of incomprehensible symbols, alongside the occasional Saesil symbol, often the non-standard standard symbols used by the Congress for the labeling of supplies and components. After spending a few moments marveling at what could only be some bizarre manner of analysis, which had, somehow, managed to reconstruct an excerpt the Codices of Virelsin, through sheer random selection, he returns to vigorously shaking the dictionary at the Brotherhood technicians, in an attempt to get their attention without the usual Solvarin-waking method of physically hitting them with it.

 

----

 

Elsewhere on the ship, Talsen opens a small metal canister, revealing a red-colored solvent into which he places a number of bandages, metal pins, and other such tools of the Arsiren, taking care to briefly submerge his hands in the solvent, before turning back to the Sesarin propped against a wall. "Again, how did the injury occur?" he says, as he cuts away the original bandages, "The wall-" she starts, cutting it off with a sharp draw of breath as Talsen removes the packing of the wound, "It simply collapsed- a flat edge." Talsen hesitates a moment at that, "Thin, then? Did you tear sharply away, or was it a slow removal?" "I tore away." was the Sesarin's quick response. Talsen retrieves a rather large piece of equipment from a nearby crate, pausing again to sterilize his pressure-suit. He quickly unfolds the device, revealing its nature as a simple, portable, tomographic scanner, and takes hasty readings of the wound; and it was just as he suspected, a fragment of metal was lodged in it.

 

Moving the scanner aside, he retrieves one of the tools from the solvent, a wire-thin magnet, to draw out the fragment. He briefly considered acquiring an anesthetic at this point, but the Sesarin would undoubtedly refuse it. Fortunately, they knew better than to jerk away from pain. And, so, he carefully inserted the device into the wound, retracting it seconds later, only to find that only several smaller fragments had been retrieved. The larger portion remained. And so, a more invasive procedure would be required. The Sesarin would now receive anesthetic regardless of her wishes.

 

Unfortunately, this procedure was to be dealt with by another. The Iseris had made themselves useful in the handling of minor injuries, and the other Asirsen would be more than able to deal with minor surgeries. His presence was needed elsewhere; not all had been luck enough to escape with mere fragments lodged safely aside.

 

----

 

Telsir walked slowly through the halls of the Sirvenal. It had taken 948 days, just under four years, to build, under his direction, and guidance from the greatest of the Solvarin. The most important part of it had failed its first true usage, the greater insult that he had long-before tested the device time-and-again to ensure such as this could not occur. And for this lone flaw, the ship had been made a ruin. He had made his way to the Sesarin chambers, dodging the occasional bit of jutting or twisted hull, along the way. In this, he was not alone, for he had sent ahead a team to attempt to access the area.

 

Little progress had been made, the damage in this region had been among the worst of it, many corridors entirely untraversable, the one he had come down, only so with extreme difficulty and care. The team had brought a number of tools, most of which now lay piled against a piece of Corridor,  in favor of a set of laser cutting devices, which collectively worked at getting no further than the now-discarded plasma cutters, at getting through what had once been a door. "I do not suppose you have made much progress then?" He says to an Asersin watching the cutters run, "We have succeeded in determining that the door takes a very long time to cut through."

 

He went to throw something at the Asersin, but found that he was not, in fact, holding anything. In an attempt to maintain dignity, he quickly redirected the blow towards the Wall, which immediately collapsed, revealing the Sesarin chambers. He turns back to the Asersin, who turn off the various lasers as he tears through more of the foil-thin wall. Once a sizable hole was cleared, he was first to enter; and it became very clear that the Wall had, for the most part, become part of the door. Why that particular section of the ship had been warped so by the Spatial Drive was probably a question for the Solvarin, and given that it had just defied the very same industrial lasers that had formed much of the ship, he now very much wanted to know what exactly had  been created. "Cut out the door, and bring it to the Solvarin for material analysis." He then opens up the channel to the Asersin at large; "Begin cutting away the warped hull-sections, bring any obtainable pieces to material-supply."

 

With that done, he moved out to get a start on resetting the cutting lasers. 

 

Been focusing on Selat and Selvas for a bit, figured I'd see how the other two were doing. Can't do much with Selthen until we start talking though.

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After spending a few moments marveling at what could only be some bizarre manner of analysis, which had, somehow, managed to reconstruct an excerpt the Codices of Virelsin, through sheer random selection, he returns to vigorously shaking the dictionary at the Brotherhood technicians, in an attempt to get their attention without the usual Solvarin-waking method of physically hitting them with it.

 

One of the engineers noticed the Selat shaking the book vigorously at them.  As he turned out of curiosity and some alarm, he received the alleged dictionary.

 

"Say...  This might be more than a diary."  The Engineer gently took the book.  It was a pity that no one had been assigned to Xenolinguistics beforehand but the actual diplomatic team happened to be on the Scent of Elderberries, and their Communications Officer (and fill-ins) would certainly not risk themselves in this particular situation.  Bridge crew remained safely on the bridge, ready to force the ship to detach from the Sirvenal and fire upon it at a moment's notice.

 

"Run some scans on this one too."  The Engineer commented as he flipped through the book and handed it to the others.  "I'm sure we'll crack this soon."

 

OOC:  Sooner or later there will be a breakthrough, especially when you have an alleged dictionary.  Either that or ships sent to follow Scent of Elderberries will appear and immediately attempt to shield Bane of Ozymandius from the Dreadnought.  Honestly, sending that thing is pretty excessive!  :P

Edited by Shex
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"The world is a comedy to those that think; a tragedy to those that feel." - Horace Walpole

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  • 4 weeks later...

"I'm sure we'll crack this soon."

 

Selat had no idea what the new creature's uttering meant. But, he was certain that it was something profound; poetic, even! Surely, even with the varied creatures he had observed within this vessel, such an event as this, the contact with an entirely new civilization was one of rarity, to be celebrated! He answered the creature's certain cry with one of his own, completely forgetting that sound does not, in fact, travel outside of the pressure suit, and caring little that it would not be understood even were it to be heard; "And so begins the new era." This is punctuated with a sage nod as he continues to carefully observe the screen.
 
Elsewhere on this ship, Selthen takes stock of the situation; reports had begun to shuffle in, the small computer the carried occasionally pinging as yet more of the usually bad news came in. Damage to the Sirvenal is both significant and extensive, most larger sections of the ship breached and depressurized, corridors difficult and dangerous to traverse, damage to the bridge somewhat better than initially suspected. Asarin running low on supplies due to losses from their section. Solvarin distracted, confused, or arguing, but generally helping very little. Sesarin growing increasingly agitated, Veterans especially. The situation could hardly be worse, though, there had at least, yet to be any fatalities. 
 
She interrupts Talsen as he strides past, carrying a case of metal fragments undoubtedly removed from one of the wounded. "Talsen! We must be able to do more; we cannot simply await a call." Talsen sighs, "Unless your people are skill in surgeries, there is nothing else to be done with us. The Asersin might have a use for them." She brings up one of the Asersin's reports on the computer, "There is nothing they can do either. We must do something, else this disaster will become tragedy." Talsen glances back to the hall he had just come from, "Then go speak with Selat. He can communicate with these creatures; appeal to them." He continues along his way, as Selthen takes off down the way he had come. In truth, he had no idea whether or not that corridor lead to wherever Selat was, but it certainly got the Iseres out of his way.
 
On the other ship, Selvas was not quite so enthusiastic. She eyed every passing one of the creatures with suspicion, outright hostility in the cases of those staying long enough to stare. Each one was a new breed of the absurd, and she knew well enough that the appearance of hospitality could easily hide a thousand threats. Unfortunately, the Sesarin had neither the advantages of superior numbers or firepower, and the Tribes Without alone outnumber the Sesarin; should there come a betrayal, there is little that could be done to ensure their safety. Once more she was force to do nothing but hope. Still, she remained prepared; weapon bound, but close at hand.
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  • 3 weeks later...

Finally, a loud ping! echoed throughout the Infinite Decorum.

 

One of the engineers who inputted the data turned towards Selat, and put on a strange device with a microphone that was extended across the length of his snout.  The Vux individual began to speak, and words began to appear.  They were broadcasted from the Vux engineer's forehead region, all thanks to the device.

 

As Selat stared, the words were clearly in Saesil script.

 

"Can you read what I am saying?"  The engineer asked.  "We can give you these devices, and your audio input can turn this output into pure audio.  If you can read this, then this mission is a success.  Welcome to the Brotherhood of Planets' Starship Infinite Decorum, mostly crewed by citizens of the Vux Federal Republic!"

 

The download of the new language was instantaneous:  every infantrymen and crewman on the ship was now equipped with Saesil script on the Universal Translator.  Strangely enough, the Algorithm took longer this time around, when even the scripts of Zorg, Arilou, and Shadow civilizations had managed to be translated more quickly, but for all intents and purposes it seemed to have been a success.

 

A Shofixti Corporal stared a bit longer at Selvas.  Once the ping of the translator's breakthrough was announced, he chuckled softly.  "It seems we can finally communicate, warrior.  It must be disorienting, finding yourself so far from home.  My kind can sympathize."

Edited by Shex

"The world is a comedy to those that think; a tragedy to those that feel." - Horace Walpole

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"Can you read what I am saying?"  The engineer asked.  "We can give you these devices, and your audio input can turn this output into pure audio.  If you can read this, then this mission is a success.  Welcome to the Brotherhood of Planets' Starship Infinite Decorum, mostly crewed by citizens of the Vux Federal Republic!"

 

Selat was indeed stunned. Not only was this creature now communicating in perfect Saesil, it claimed that the recording device it was using could do the same for him to... whatever it was that their language was. Or, at least, he was fairly certain that is what it was saying, the creature was poorly-descriptive.

 

He quickly snatches up one of the devices, and promptly slams it into his Helmet. After a quick glance to ensure that neither was obviously damaged, he removed the helmet, and placed it on a hook attacked to his pressure-suit, revealing his tawny coat of down feathers. He then proceeds to fumble with the device for several seconds, eventually getting it into a suitably-stable position. 

 

"Saes-Rael-Ulam" he quickly rattles off, to which the device responds, "Six-Five-Nine." Utter nonsense, as he suspected, but it certainly did not seem to be damaged by his earlier assault on it. He turns to face the creature that had brought him this discovery, and after a moment's hesitation, responds; "I am (Selat Kir Solvarin) Lead Scientist Selat; I must thank your Brotherhood for your assistance to our (Sirvenal) Inheritor and the Tribes Without."

 

A Shofixti Corporal stared a bit longer at Selvas.  Once the ping of the translator's breakthrough was announced, he chuckled softly.  "It seems we can finally communicate, warrior.  It must be disorienting, finding yourself so far from home.  My kind can sympathize."

 

Selvas' invisible death-glare at the creature broke immediately. It could speak beyond the utterances from its like that had previously been heard. Unsure of whether this was indicative of good or ill, she rises cautiously, ensuring that her weapon does not shift out of quick reach. "What are you, creature? And how have you learned to speak as we do?" She says, more as demands than as questions. It is at this point that other Sesarin in the room take notice, watching the honoured Kir and whatever it was that had taken her attention.

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Selat was indeed stunned. Not only was this creature now communicating in perfect Saesil, it claimed that the recording device it was using could do the same for him to... whatever it was that their language was. Or, at least, he was fairly certain that is what it was saying, the creature was poorly-descriptive.

 

He quickly snatches up one of the devices, and promptly slams it into his Helmet. After a quick glance to ensure that neither was obviously damaged, he removed the helmet, and placed it on a hook attacked to his pressure-suit, revealing his tawny coat of down feathers. He then proceeds to fumble with the device for several seconds, eventually getting it into a suitably-stable position. 

 

"Saes-Rael-Ulam" he quickly rattles off, to which the device responds, "Six-Five-Nine." Utter nonsense, as he suspected, but it certainly did not seem to be damaged by his earlier assault on it. He turns to face the creature that had brought him this discovery, and after a moment's hesitation, responds; "I am (Selat Kir Solvarin) Lead Scientist Selat; I must thank your Brotherhood for your assistance to our (Sirvenal) Inheritor and the Tribes Without."

 

 

Selvas' invisible death-glare at the creature broke immediately. It could speak beyond the utterances from its like that had previously been heard. Unsure of whether this was indicative of good or ill, she rises cautiously, ensuring that her weapon does not shift out of quick reach. "What are you, creature? And how have you learned to speak as we do?" She says, more as demands than as questions. It is at this point that other Sesarin in the room take notice, watching the honoured Kir and whatever it was that had taken her attention.

 

The Vux engineer tilted his body in an ever-so-slight bow.  Nodding was anatomically impossible for their species, and he was fairly certain that the 'dance of acknowledgement' would fall on (a) blind eye(s).  "Our people are fond of encountering other sapient lifeforms.  Your people seemed to be in danger, and we felt it imperative to do what we can.  There is the issue of technological differences.  If your ship is to be repaired, we may have to tow it to our nearest Starbase....  The only issue is, we don't happen to have one.  I'll patch through to the Captain:  it seems that the translation software has been routed to the entire ship."

 

----

 

The Corporal chuckled.  His snout twitched ever so slightly as he laughed softly.  "You may have heard the short sound earlier.  It signaled that our translation software is working.  It is a standard procedure during first contact scenarios, except that none of the ships in our flotilla had a dedicated diplomatic team.  Now we can speak your tongue, because we have the technology.  Some of your people have gracefully provided us with audio data.  The more we talk, the easier it will be to communicate."

 

He made certain to eye her movements.  "I guess I need to explain.  My people are fond of encountering other intelligent lifeforms.  It is why we were so quick to provide aid:  most prudent peoples would have probably just kept your ship in quarantine.  But we saw wounded, and we felt we had to act.  You and I are more alike than you'd think:  your ship is probably far from home, and my people have undergone similar crises.  Let us try to work together to get you out of this predicament."

 

At this point, one of the Garthan marines began to growl disdainfully.  "Being spotted by unidentified aliens in a broken ship.  No wonder this one's so tense.  How embarrassing."

 

As the pips on the marine's collar revealed that of a Staff Sergeant, the corporal could do little more than give him a hasty warning glare.

 

But surely the insult would not be dismissed.

"The world is a comedy to those that think; a tragedy to those that feel." - Horace Walpole

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The Vux engineer tilted his body in an ever-so-slight bow.  Nodding was anatomically impossible for their species, and he was fairly certain that the 'dance of acknowledgement' would fall on (a) blind eye(s).  "Our people are fond of encountering other sapient lifeforms.  Your people seemed to be in danger, and we felt it imperative to do what we can.  There is the issue of technological differences.  If your ship is to be repaired, we may have to tow it to our nearest Starbase....  The only issue is, we don't happen to have one.  I'll patch through to the Captain:  it seems that the translation software has been routed to the entire ship."

 

This was quite the unfortunate turn of events; he had thought things were going too well, it seemed the appropriate time for complications to arise. "The subject of repairs... I am afraid this is not my area of expertise. If you will allow me a moment..." He quickly takes off the device, and calls for Telsir, who, as it turns out, was quite close, as he immediately enters, and places a slab of scorched, warped metal on the ground. A short, seemingly one-sided conversation between the two ensues, not as though any of those present beyond them would have understood it, and Telsir removes his helmet, revealing a black down that well caught the light, and puts on one of the devices Selat had now returned to wearing.

 

Telsir begins to speak, cutting off Selat's attempted introduction, "The hull has suffered approximately 17 significant breaches and an as-yet unknown number of minor breaches. Sections of the substructure will have to be removed due to irreparable material alteration that renders it unworkable by available methods and tools; attachment of replacement substructure will be a stopgap that should be able to withstand limited travel so as to effect more appropriate repairs with appropriate facilities. Most critical components are a complete loss and will have to be reconstructed wholesale. We can do that, but we'll need facilities. We can make those too." With that said, he pauses for second, suddenly remembering to introduce himself, "(Talsir Kir Asersin) Lead Builder Talsir." he says, punctuating it with a gesture towards himself.

 

The Corporal chuckled.  His snout twitched ever so slightly as he laughed softly.  "You may have heard the short sound earlier.  It signaled that our translation software is working.  It is a standard procedure during first contact scenarios, except that none of the ships in our flotilla had a dedicated diplomatic team.  Now we can speak your tongue, because we have the technology.  Some of your people have gracefully provided us with audio data.  The more we talk, the easier it will be to communicate."

He made certain to eye her movements.  "I guess I need to explain.  My people are fond of encountering other intelligent lifeforms.  It is why we were so quick to provide aid:  most prudent peoples would have probably just kept your ship in quarantine.  But we saw wounded, and we felt we had to act.  You and I are more alike than you'd think:  your ship is probably far from home, and my people have undergone similar crises.  Let us try to work together to get you out of this predicament."

At this point, one of the Garthan marines began to growl disdainfully.  "Being spotted by unidentified aliens in a broken ship.  No wonder this one's so tense.  How embarrassing."

As the pips on the marine's collar revealed that of a Staff Sergeant, the corporal could do little more than give him a hasty warning glare.

But surely the insult would not be dismissed.

 

The creature's explanation was little understood; he spoke as a Solvarin, of things that could not be sensed by any measure but functioned just the same. But she had learned long ago to trust what she could not understand; the silence of the Solvarin broken before her first memory. His latter statements were more to her concern, however; it would have indeed been wise to leave the Sirvenal isolated. Had they wished the Five Tribes ill, they could have merely waited for depressurization to end them and taken the wreck alone. 

 

Any response she would have offered, however, died quietly as the second creature spoke. Selvas rose to her full height, easily passing the diminutive creature that had opened the conversation, and coming in to tower above the newcomer. "The (Solvari ul Asersi Irum) failed technology and constructs would not end us while the (Sesarin) Warrior upholds their path, that the Tribes Without be preserved. Do you lack such honor that you would see death for pride? Or are you little apart from fool?"

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Telsir begins to speak, cutting off Selat's attempted introduction, "The hull has suffered approximately 17 significant breaches and an as-yet unknown number of minor breaches. Sections of the substructure will have to be removed due to irreparable material alteration that renders it unworkable by available methods and tools; attachment of replacement substructure will be a stopgap that should be able to withstand limited travel so as to effect more appropriate repairs with appropriate facilities. Most critical components are a complete loss and will have to be reconstructed wholesale. We can do that, but we'll need facilities. We can make those too." With that said, he pauses for second, suddenly remembering to introduce himself, "(Talsir Kir Asersin) Lead Builder Talsir." he says, punctuating it with a gesture towards himself.

 

 

The creature's explanation was little understood; he spoke as a Solvarin, of things that could not be sensed by any measure but functioned just the same. But she had learned long ago to trust what she could not understand; the silence of the Solvarin broken before her first memory. His latter statements were more to her concern, however; it would have indeed been wise to leave the Sirvenal isolated. Had they wished the Five Tribes ill, they could have merely waited for depressurization to end them and taken the wreck alone. 

 

Any response she would have offered, however, died quietly as the second creature spoke. Selvas rose to her full height, easily passing the diminutive creature that had opened the conversation, and coming in to tower above the newcomer. "The (Solvari ul Asersi Irum) failed technology and constructs would not end us while the (Sesarin) Warrior upholds their path, that the Tribes Without be preserved. Do you lack such honor that you would see death for pride? Or are you little apart from fool?"

 

Selvas nearly towered over the Sergeant, but he did not budge an inch.

 

"There is pride in death.  Warriors who fail to understand this fact are not warriors at all.  A Garthan warrior..."  He struck his own chest for emphasis. "... appreciates this concept.  I doubt only Garthans would express shame and embarrassment if they were in your shoes; those who are warriors would rather die than be in your predicament.  We are not your comrades, we are not your people, yet you need our help.  You seem to suggest having pride in how your society cooperates.  That is admirable.  But when your people fail, to lack shame is rather detestable. 

 

"Yes, he-"  The Garthan sergeant pointed at the Shofixti corporal.  "-is my comrade, and on the field of battle we would gladly die for each other.  But you are not in battle.  Your ship failed its purpose.  Perhaps it is easy to stand at attention and glare at passers by, but in so doing you leave your engineers and workers helplessly scurrying about to find solutions.  One who fails to provide aid to one's own comrades has no honor!  You leave them flailing about without lifting a finger to help."

 

The Shofixti glanced nervously between the two at this point, and slowly backed away while preparing to alert additional troops.

 

-------

 

The Engineer bowed again.  "Understood, Lead Builder.  As stated earlier, I will take both of you to our Captain.  Perhaps our superiors have already informed him of nearby facilities where we can undertake the procedures you mentioned."

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"The world is a comedy to those that think; a tragedy to those that feel." - Horace Walpole

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