OOC: W/ [@Queen Raidne]

[b][i]FD Nyxa[/i][/b]

“They gone shields up, but are sending back transmission. they bounced us back our contact package, probably couldn’t decode it, and sent something of their own. At least we know how their communications work.” the Xo read the data.

Nodding, Sola already had an action in mind: “Not enough to translate, we need a bigger sample. give me all power the sensors can muster and fire up our ECM suites. I want their computers datamined and translated. Incidentally, if any mention of our home was to disappear from them, I certainly wouldn’t mind.” the admiral said with a sly smile, to which the XO was happy to oblige.

“In the mean time, break pursuit and come to a standstill. Let’s not give them the push to crash jump out of here. until we can talk, we need them staying here for as long as possible. If you detect a power spike, kill their engines, that order still stands.” Sola instructed, standing up and walking to the holo to examine the alien ship in more detail.

“Who are you people, and why did you have to come here of all places?” she thought out loud. The ship looked like nothing the Faira would ever conceive. The admiral came from an engineering background and she had fine appreciation for details. The aliens certainly knew how to build a pretty looking ship. Judging by the lack of turrets and the multitude of probes it launched, Sola made a guess it was a science cruiser. The engineer in her screamed though. Replacing any bigger system from within that monolithic armor had to be a nightmare. On any Faira ship, you would just uncouple a module from the outside and replace it with fresh one, ready to resume your post in thirty minutes.

[center][u][color=#c0d0ff][b]Eastwing Ship [i]Discovery One[/i][/b]
[sup]Near the Faira Nebula[/sup][/color][/u]
[hider=Picture][img]http://www.ewe-squad.com/vacht/66.jpg[/img][/hider][/center]

[hider=Deep within telecomms] The antenna had picked up a foreign signal and dumped it into the telecomms subnetwork. The telecomms subnetwork analyzed the first-byte routing identifier, got confused, sent back a bad signal error, and erased the signal. Another signal came in, got dumped to the subnetwork. Same thing. And again. And again. Each time, there was a random variation in the signal, until finally the telecomms subnetwork recognized the routing identifier.
 
[Ah,] it said, [you’re supposed to go over here. Hey! Subspace ansible! There’s a packet for you!] The telecomms subnetwork then threw the signal to the subspace ansible.

The subspace ansible was responsible for streaming the many microdrones’ compressed video and audio feeds to Khasi space and relaying their owners’ movement commands to [i]Discovery One[/i]. It caught the signal and attempted to decode it. This tripped a fault, and a corresponding signal light on Chief Engineer Dennis Nedry’s console turned red. Nedry, however, was too busy trying to route extra power to the supercapacitors to notice one of the hundreds of colored indicator lights on his console turning a different color.

[That signal’s no good. Return to sender with an appropriate error code,] the subspace ansible ordered the telecomms network.

The telecomms subnetwork received another signal, this one more targeted. [Another one fo-] it started to say.
[i][sup][Actually, I’m [b]really[/b] big. Like, super big. I’m a [b]big[/b][/sup] fat [sup]signal,[/sup]][/i] The foreign signal said. It wasn’t big. It was actually pretty small.  [Hmm. Actually, this one’s pretty big. Hey, computer core, gimme more memory!] the subnetwork said. This, too, made an indicator light change color. Then, having reallocated memory for the subspace ansible, the subnetwork tossed the signal to the ansible. 

[Hey, that’s another junk signal!] the ansible complained. [Here, return to sender with the error code.] And the ansible attempted to bundle up the obviously huge foreign signal with the error code. But it couldn’t find the rest of the foreign signal. Confused, it decided that the next several gigabytes of signals must be the foreign signal. So it bundled up what it could and tossed it back to the subnetwork, which sent it back to the alien ship. Thus the Faira received access to the [i]entire network of microdrone cameras[/i] on board the Discovery One.

While this was a rather large security flaw, two things kept it around: (1) - the Khasi didn’t really see the point of anyone hacking into the microdrone network; I mean, it was practically public, anyway; and (2) - although a patch had been written, it hadn’t been distributed because a pro-privacy congressional named Kinsey was waiting for it to be exploited, as then he’d have greater political leverage.[/hider]

Lt. Ray looked at the blocky xeno ship and said, “I don’t like it. They’re just sitting there.”
“Probably trying to decode our message,” Dr. Clavius said. “Just like we’ve been decoding theirs. Nothing to worry about.”

[b][i]FD Nyxa, command deck[/i][/b]
“We have something.” the Xo reported, and the holo shifted again, displaying a multitude of windows. They were all black at first, but slowly all of them filled with video feeds from within the ship, making the life on the deck stop for a few seconds as everyone watched the green aliens and their stylish, overly spacious interior design.

“Writing!” the XO pointed to what looked like letters on some of the screens and pointers around the ship and got to work, directing the translation AI to check the feeds and try to decode the language. Nodding, Sola hoped it would be done in time before they decide to depart. “Keep up the ECM, I want to know all there is to know about them. And shed the gloves, take a knife.” she urged to take a bit more drastic measure.

Nodding, the XO pressed a few controls and the Nyxa’s sensors started performing an active scan, much like they did with the probe before.

[center][u][color=#c0d0ff][b]Eastwing Ship [i]Discovery One[/i][/b]
[sup]Near the Faira Nebula[/sup][/color][/u][/center]

“I’ve got something,” Dr. Romanova reported on the viewer. “They started with pretty basic data, prime numbers, iconographic representations of the elements, that sort of thing. Then it gradually got more complex until I realized that you could-”
Captain Needlemeier held up a hand. “Captain-speak, please.”
“The aliens sent us a decoder ring. I could-”

[i][b][sub]ping![/sub] PING![/b][/i] went the bridge.
Everything was deathly silent for a moment.

“Contact V-One is scanning us with active tech,” reported the sensor tech.
“Shields are under strain, we’re getting a 2.1% increase in drain,” an ensign reported.

Outside, the shields flared green in a nice arc, spreading away and reflecting with the Faira scan. It was all quite unnecessary, really.

Split decisions. Command was all about split decisions. Were they a threat? Was it a prelude to weapons fire? Or were they just looking? Would they take arming the laser cannons as a threat? Oh, right. Discovery One didn’t [i]have[/i] laser cannons.

“Helm, bring us about. Match V-One’s course and speed with minimal variance,” ordered Captain Needlemeier. The bluespace crystals were still fried, but it was nice to have an option, however impractical.

[i][b][sub]ping![/sub] PING![/b][/i] the computer synthesized again.

“They’re going to scan us, we’re going to scan them. At least we can prove ourselves on an equal footing.” He gestured to Dr. Clavius. “Get Natasha to perform a deep scan on that ship.” Then Needlemeier registered that Dr. Clavius was standing over the telecomms station.

“What did you just send?”
“Hello,” Dr. Clavius said. “Dr. Romanova figured it out.”
“Perform a deep scan,” the captain ordered.

Outside Discovery One’s hull, a series of twenty space-maneuverable microdrone cameras departed the ship and took up station around the  alien ship, cautiously analyzing it.

[b][i]FD Nyxa, command deck[/i][/b]

“They launched something!” the XO said in alarm. “Fighters or missiles?” Sola asked, bracing for an impact. “Negative, it’s too tiny. We have visual, it looks like some more drones. We’re getting increased strain on the shield - a few got too close and melted and the others are probably returning the favor and scanning us. Makes sense if they’re a science ship, they would have the equipment.” the XO theorized.

This whole situation was taking far too long for the Admiral’s liking though. “Tell me you have the translation yet.” she asked. “Enough to say hello. We have their communications method from before, I believe we can talk to them directly.” her 2IC replied, and Sola gave him a nod. A moment later, the discovery One received a short text message.

[quote]FD Nyxa to Unknown ship, you are in violation of Faira territory. Remove your probes from our system and we can talk like civilized people.[/quote]

[center][u][color=#c0d0ff][b]Eastwing Ship [i]Discovery One[/i][/b]
[sup]Near the Faira Nebula[/sup][/color][/u][/center]

Dr. Clavius had barely lifted his finger from the console when it received a signal. Kron was really making himself known today. Apparently they’d both managed to translate each other’s language and sent messages at the same time.

“New message from V-One, sir. Sending it to the main viewer,” the sensor tech reported. 
“Friendly bastards, aren’t they?” Lt. Ray said, looking at the message.
“Wait, ‘their system’? Who claims a supernova nebula as ‘their’ system? Why would you do that?” Tycho asked. “Unless… they really like the color blue.” He only hesitantly dismissed that theory.

This was really no fault of Tycho’s logic. His sole xenodiplomacy class was taught by a tenured professor known for his wild theories and large cloud of attending microdrones. One was directly related to the other. 

Captain Needlemeier glanced at the time. It was well past the ten-minute mark since the probes had been launched. Their shields had all likely failed by now. He hadn’t wanted to lower his ship’s shields to translate the drones back, but at least it would [i]appear[/i] like they’d complied.

“Deep scan complete; recalling the microdrones,” Natasha’s voice said.

Again, a convenient appearance of compliance. Why fight Kron? 

“Anything interesting?” he asked Dr. Romanova.
“Initially, it looks like their drive system operates on unknown principles. Their ship may be ugly, but it’s got a potentially beautiful engine.”
“Fine. Dr. Clavius, proceed with as peaceful a contact as we can. Maybe we can get some new artwork for the engineers back home to utilize,” Needlemeier ordered. After glancing at the clock - still 15 minutes before his ship could leave - he pulled up the image of his Head of Personnel and 2IC, Commander Leslie Knope. “Leslie, your turn for the chair. I’ll be in the mess.”

[quote][color=blue]As you can see, we’ve complied. We come in peace. We’re on a scientific mission to study the after-effects of supernovae. Didn’t expect to find you here. Would like more contact; especially interested in your drive. Interesting piece, pretty, much in contrast with context of ship, very blunt, ugly. Juxtaposition interesting. Very much interested in speaking to primary engine artist. Suggest face-to-face if possible, air permitting.[/color][/quote]

[b][i]FD Nyxa, command deck[/i][/b]
“She did [i]not[/i] just call my ship ugly!” Sola hissed, sending her XO into a fit of giggles. “Makes sense why they came here though. Could they have seen the light from the event? It would put them some 350 light years from us, have the sci-dept look for what systems would match that general distance.” the admiral ordered and sent a message back. At the very least they were complying with their request. Then again, it might have been the two 50m cannons pointed at them.

[quote]Then we welcome you. Our hangar is open for your small craft if you have any. On board conditions::
Atmosphere - 70% N[sub]2[/sub]
Atmosphere - 30% O[sub]2[/sub]
Temperature - 300 K
Gravity - 0,8G
Physics unit system part of previously sent 1st contact package.[/quote]
[quote]
No small craft, crew transferred from space dock, no need to land on imaginary planet in exploded nebula. Air looks good but somewhat warm, slightly greater concentration of O[sub]2[/sub]. Possibly meet on [i]Discovery One[/i] if you retain small craft; note docking ring - will engage visual guidance system.[/quote]

Dr. Clavius glanced at Commander Knope. Needlemeier would never have let him get away with offering xenos an invitation to board the [i]Discovery One[/i]. Commander Knope, however, had only the Captain’s short shift-takeover briefing to go on. And she believed rather whole-heartedly in the Rules, and the Rules said that he was in charge of xenodiplomacy. Lt. Ray looked unhappy at the recent turn of events, however. Leslie was talking to someone, Nedry, he thought, and that distraction was ultimately what let him get away with it.

“Fine, whatever, you’re in charge of the aliens. Just don’t get us into a war,” she’d said, before turning back to Nedry. That was just enough room to give him power to officially order the docking ring guidance lights online.

Outside the ship, a nice long “runway” of holographic vectoring lights led to the ship’s docking ring. They were dynamic; a radar unit detected incoming vessels’ approach and speed and indicated appropriate correcting maneuvers.

Convincing Commander Knope to lower the shields to allow docking was more difficult, and involved some yelling. But she [i]was[/i] convinced. And if Lt. Ray’s grin looked a little feral, well, the man [i]always[/i] looked a little feral. Who went for blood-blue bodypaint, anyway?

[b][i]Faira shuttle[/i][/b]
“Admiral! You’re not serious about going yourself?” Sola’s 2IC exclaimed as they walked towards the transport that would take them to the shuttle. “Dead serious. They’re scientists, what could they do? Iven if they had small arms, we’d be able to get out of there and our suits are EVA-worthy. Hold the fort, and wait for me to come back. Remember your standing order - they try to leave, stop them. That goes double for when we’re on board.” the admiral decided and put on her helmet, sealing the suit with a hiss.

They boarded the shuttle and swiftly left the hangar. Sola had to admit that it was impossible to miss where they were supposed to go - the lightshow was quite impressive. Their holos were definitely years ahead of them - the Faira had trouble creating fields this big.

The inside of the ship looked as fancy as the rest of it. The camera feeds they hacked into didn’t really do it justice. It needed a lot more red though. “Conditions?” Sola asked one of her guards who accessed the shuttle’s sensors. ”Somewhat breathable atmosphere, slightly higher gravity. Cold, but not colder than where we’ve gone before. We can go helmet-off.” Shaking her head, Sola denied that: “Not yet. Let’s make sure they won’t blow our heads off first.”

The airlock on the shuttle cycled and opened with a hiss, and the admiral walked out bracketed by her four guards, looking for someone who looked like they were supposed to meet them.

Minutes ago, Dr. Clavius had been trying to jerry-rig the toxins lab's isolation chamber into a xeno environment room. Dr. Romanova had been singularly unhelpful, claiming to be busy with something "important" involving her husband. What could be more important than meeting a friendly new species! Then he'd had to go, barely remembering to grab something blue to offer them as a gift. Just in case.

In Arrivals, three red-suited security personnel met him at the internal airlock. They were armed with electric stun pistols, rarely used on unruly scientists. Two were female, as Tycho had insisted. One had violently pink hair; one was a daring natural black. Body paint was, of course, quite colorful, but all of them had blue displayed somewhere prominent. Just in case. Tycho had outlined the veins on his hands. There was also a dense cloud of microdrones. He caught himself looking for, and finding, his loyal green viewer.

The airlock chimed, and the gas meter display indicated standard pressure. The airlock opened with a satisfying hiss, carefully piped from well-hidden speakers.

"Welcome to [i]Discovery One[/i], guest. Continue toward to the security checkpoint. An official will meet-" the computer said. Dr. Clavius quietly pressed the door's mute button before the computer went on about a giftshop that didn't exist. The xenos were standing outside their gray shuttle. What was with them and the color gray?

Tycho fumbled in his lab coat for the two slates he'd uploaded Dr. Romanova's translation program to. He tapped out a message before handing one to the center xeno. 

[quote] Hello. Accept this as gift. Contains translation routine. Interface a bit sparse, rushed job. No idea how to arrange keys, sorry. Basic tutorial upper left icon. More gifts soon, then my name, then follow to environment room.[/quote]

Tycho grabbed the two blue cups, pens, magnet and silicone board back from the sec guards and handed it to the xenos. He pointed at himself, and said, "Tycho." Then he waited to see if the xenos had something to say.

Nodding and grabbing the offered computer, one of the guards flicked her wrist control panel open and tapped a few keys. A small holo flashed to life in front of her, showing the progress of loading the data from the device.

A beep annéounced the end of the procedure, and the guard nodded to Sola who now stepped forward. “Thank you for inviting us, Tycho. I am Fleet Admiral Sola of the Faira. We bring greetings from the Nebula. We have had difficulty translating your language, but with the data you provided we were able to complete the database. Our suits have built-in audio that will translate for us, so feel free to use your native tongue. If something becomes unclear, we will ask. Please, lead the way.” sola said, the reproductors on her suit delivering in a thickly dialected, but recognizable Khasi.

The people at least seemed the right size, being about as tall as the Faira and the preferred size of RLC’s mobile hardware. From the reports she got, the sinnsyk were the exception with their midget size. What interested her most was the green skin - a color that was virtually nonexistent on the former Homeworld and thus overall in the Faira design. The only use for the color they had was the highest grade of alarm.

they were lead into what looked like hastily refurbished chamber, and yet still it looked more comfortable than any room on the Nyxa. Just how vain could they get with the design? Sola was unable to stop herself from scrutinizing every detail she could lay her violet eyes on


[color=#c0d0ff][sup][u]Security Office[/u][/sup][/color]
Security was empty. There weren't even any microdrones. Most of those were busy ogling at the aliens. In Lt. Ray's office, CE Nedry pointed to a looping snake of flashing red code on the console. It was gradually working its way through a complex 3D maze.

"There it is," he said to Dr. Romanova, Lt. Ray, and the Captain.
"We've copied my experimental multichromatic phase inducer routine into the main computer. It should be a while before that thing can analyze the routine," Natasha said.
"But it [i]will[/i] analyze it. Isn't that an experimental weapons routine?" Needlemeier asked.
"They could be making their lasers multicolored right now," Lt. Ray said sarcastically.
"Actually, it doesn't even work. It needed too much processing power; the code wasn't optimized."
"How much did they get?" Needlemeier asked.
"Well," Nedry said, "as you know, they already got the microdrone feeds. After that, Tr'tza knows. I've got a team going through the telecomms logs now. But-"
"The real problem," his wife interrupted, "is what they destroyed. I double-checked the Research servers. All our nebula data is gone."
"[i]Now[/i] can I arrest their xeno butts?" Lt. Ray asked.
"How long until it figures out the routine?" Needlemeier asked.
“Could be an hour, if it's rate of progress doesn't change. Maybe 30 minutes," Nedry said.

They were a research ship. They weren't equipped for electronic warfare. The Captain glanced at the clock. 10 minutes before they could translate.

"Not yet," he said to Ray. "Natasha. I want you to personally prepare a distress signal to Space Fleet. Do not send it until my order. Further, set the computer to inform us the moment it breaches containment. Nedry, stand by to cut power to telecomms and get us the hell out of here. Ray, get your people ready. Discreetly. I'm going to inform Dr. Clavius. Protocol requires it."

[color=#c0d0ff][sup][u] Environment Chamber[/u][/sup][/color]
Tycho was impressed. He had no idea how they'd managed to go from text to spoken language so quickly.  Nor how they'd figured out an adapter for their interface ports. He sat down at the conference table, shooing out most of the drones. They could watch from the window. One sec guard took up station discretely in the room, the other two stood outside. Maybe they'd get more than art techniques from this agreement. Maybe he could make a name for himself. Maybe that cloud out the observation window would stick around. He glanced at the lone green microdrone he'd let into the room. He hadn't had the heart to shoo it out, too. He wondered how many people were watching that stream right now.

Gifts, check. Greetings, check. Next was... diplomatic relations.

"We'd like to establish greater rapport. Maybe even diplomatic relations, perhaps an exchange of artists or some form of trade," he said. His commlink buzzed. Needleier, probably finally off break and ready to yell at him. He was in the middle of first contact. It could wait.

“We would prefer that as well.” the admiral agreed, tapping her comms and sending a short message back to the Nyxa. “As a gesture of goodwill I have ordered mys hip to stop scanning your vessel and worming your computers. We have however relieved you of all data on the nebula. I hope you understand, but until we know who we are dealing with, we can not agree to have you poking around one of our systems for security reasons. If there is any damage to your hardware, we will reimburse you, of course.” she apologized.

If they were looking, the bridge crew would be able to see the Nyxa breaking off before pulling to a halt on a parallel course, flying in formation with the Khasi ship, it’s shields dropping. The weapons stayed on though, still pointing ominously on the science ship’s engine cluster.

“If I may inquire, I have already introduced our kind. What do we call your people?” the admiral begun, hoping to get some cultural bearings before any discussion developed. Experience with other contacts said that was a good way to avoid a faux-pas.

"Um," Tycho said. They'd done [i]what[/i]!? Different races, different perspectives different customs. Rule number one of xenodiplomacy. He bit back his anger.
"That perhaps wasn't the best start," he said. "In the interest of peace I'll overlook it. However, in the future, know that we consider such electronic intrusion - especially against a defenseless research ship - a hostile act."

Captain Needlemeier, watching through the microdrone since the idiot hadn't picked up his commlink, grudgingly stopped his preparations. Well, all save for having security personnel on standby.

"Anyway, we're called the Khasi. Our nation is known as Eastwing after the capital building. Over 150 seasons of very entertaining politics. Well. Entertaining to some. I've always been more of a Space Force fan myself. Protocol says that I should inform you, as part of our cultural heritage, hold on, what was it?" He glanced down at his slate of hastily-written notes. "It's not a big deal, pretty standard-ah! 'We are a nation whose primary source of entertainment is reality. You should be informed that hundreds if not thousands of our people are watching this moment through our microdrone cameras. This is not a spy network; if you feel uncomfortable, please inform us and we will desist viewing you.'"

“I would have prefered different approach, but I am sure your nation also has secrets they do not wish others to know. Please understand our position - a small, hardly detectable ship sending probes into our territory? Do not tell me you wouldn’t be alarmed if that was happening on your borders. However, we have no hostile intent and it is our hope we will not need to resort to such measured in the future.” Sola said, mixing a reassurance and a warning to her words.

She was a bit bewildered at the thought of a whole culture based around [i]having fun[/i]. The universe was weirder with every discovery the Faira made outside of their little star cluster. Perhaps they should just stay home. That was why Sola didn’t mind at all being the admiral of the Defender fleet. The Nebula suited her just fine.

At the mention of the feeds, she squirmed a little. Great, she just notified everyone that they molested their computers on reality TV. This day was fantastic!

Deciding to reciprocate in the same manner, she shared that their recorded history reached 355 years ago, wondering whether they would make the connection to the Supernova. All their records were lost with their home, albeit most of their history was a struggle to escape the impending doom.

“We’re explorers and inventors, looking for other cultures to trade with. I don’t know whether we can satisfy your lust for artists, but I believe our engineers would be interested in talking further. If you wish, we will also introduce you to our other contacts. We have a ship stationed in one of our system that serves as a diplomatic hub between us, should you wish to send an envoy there.” she offered. It was painfully obvious Sola didn’t catch on much to her diplomatic training, her words flowing just as the thoughts came.

Dr. Clavius hadn’t thought about the xeno’s ability to introduce Eastwing to other xenos. It was painfully obvious, in hindsight. He wasn’t sure what the distinguishment between artists and engineers was. Engineering had always been a subset of art for the Khasi. Oh, sure, sometimes you just had to design an automated cannery, but even then, there was an approach to it - some canneries felt more cannery-like than others. Or perhaps you wanted to be ironic and make a cannery feel like a fishery. There wasn’t much wiggle room with canneries. There was a lot of wiggle room with starships.

“I can safely say that we’d be interested in meeting your contacts. We ought to be able to reciprocate. For the diplomatic hub, if you give us the coordinates, I’m certain my government would be interested. Unless,” Tycho added, ”you’re particularly sensitive to its location. Similarly, if you were interested, we may be able to grant you the land - or space, if you prefer - for an embassy. At this point, I suggest we break and contact our respective governments. I imagine that some form of treaty will follow, once the bureaucrats write enough words. In the meantime, you’re welcome to stay aboard the [i]Discovery One[/i]. I think the Captain could find quarters for your party if you wish, and I could get a few selected Eastwing video feeds while we wait.”

“I appreciate the offer, however I am afraid our duties lie here. We will transmit the coordinates once I am aboard my ship. You are welcome there any time. We can discuss treaties and introduce others there. Until we meet again then.” Sola said, and the quintet of Faira gave them their salutes.

One shuttle ride over, Cygnus had the techs transmit data to the Exodus system and Exodus Juno. As a token of goodwill, she also had data on the composition of the Nebula and reading of the neutron star that remained of their star included so that discovery One’s scientific mission wouldn’t be in vain. Promptly the Nyxa departed the area, but the fleet continued monitoring the outskirts of the Nebula to the best of their abilities for some time afterwards.

[i][b]Machina system, Faira Hexus[/b][/i]
[@White Feather], [@HounderHowl]

“Chancellor!” Captain Libra called over the hallway when spotting the tiny Sinnsyk. “I have received new orders. The ship is to move to one of our uninhabited systems. I am to tell you that we have been contacted by yet another species, and in order to allow them to come here for talks we need to move out of the RLC’s home system because until we know more about them, we do not wish to grant them that knowledge. Please notify your people of that.”

She left right after and headed to the bridge to send a similar message to the RLC and order the helm to proceed.