[b]Uncharted Space: Aftermath[/b]
[u]Explorer Witch Situation[/u]
The three Hunters momentarily paused, stunned by the bolt of... whatever it was. They had been nearby when similar bolts had vaporized their mechanics, and were well aware of the survivability of the weapon. However, because it did not fire again, and vaporize them, they gained confidence, and advanced, cornering the floating intelligence. As they did so, a Tinker peeked through the door, rifle in hand, and fired at the Witch. Once he finished his short, 3-second burst, he ducked away, and the Hunters launched themselves at the Witch, intent on capture, or destruction, with bone-rending blades.

[b]Nouvelle[/b]
The Valkians were... ill at ease, to put it simply. Nothing had been made to take into account for tails, and so they sat rather uncomfortably, if at all. The Hunter made himself at home, lying on his side in the plush carpet, tail absently waving back and forth against the softness. Carpet had never been thought of; they had hardwood floors and the like, certainly not clothing on the ground. The Tinkerer paced, too alight with ideas and anxiety to sit still in the foreign environment. They had closed all the windows; they found the sensation of sunwarmth while indoors unnerving, and the windows had been artfully and beautifully designed to let in as much sunlight into the rooms as possible... which aggravated the Engineer to no end. The Engineer was going about, messing with vases or furniture, seeing that while the outside may be rather nice, the interior wasn't quite so much. Simplistic, is what he thought, cheap. Their furniture was art, right down the frame and grain. Grain, of course, meaning the grain of the wood they use, or the metals. 

When a servant stopped by and asked for food, the Tinkerer only asked for water, and for the local fruit, of whatever the servant's choice. Minutes later, he reappeared again with glasses, a pitcher of water, and of a bowl of fruit. The Tinkerer thanked him, and in a rather impolite, but not ill-meant way, closed the door. The idea of nobility or politeness wasn't much of a concept explored much; respect, yes, but as far as they knew, any leader was like anyone else, just harder working in the mental department. Servants were simply treated as they would treat each other.

So the Tinkerer ended up drinking the entire pitcher of water, and examined each fruit carefully. Oranges, apples, and strawberries. Taking peculiar interest in the smallest, he very gently nibbled off the end of the strawberry, immediately being hit by the sweetness. After another examination of both the strawberry and his own body to check for any reactions, he decided it was safe to eat, and carefully put the entire thing in his mouth. 

He chewed, and was struck by the fact that perhaps one should not eat the leaves with it.

Four strawberries and half an apple later, a single bite mark in the orange, another person appeared at the door. The Tinkerer was filled in, and he carefully nodded, copying the food servant's gesture. Then, he motioned for his brethren to follow, and they came with.

As they were seated in their makeshift tail-friendly seats, they watched the other two races very carefully. No doubt would one of them protest at the Hunter's bone blades, and the Tinkerer had already formulated a rebuttal, should it be so. Their tails waved behind them, curling, uncurling, waving and swishing in different patterns, occasionally wrapping around another and playing some kind of weird game. Then they would unwind and continue doing whatever they wanted behind their chairs. The Tinkerer also took in the fourth table; perhaps a fourth species, unknown to them, unknown to the natives, that had yet to arrive? The Tinkerer would sate his curiosity later; curiosity killed the kriltios, after all. 

The Tinkerer had originally thought that he would wait for the others to speak; that would not be so after hearing, and somehow understanding, the Queen's speech. He stood, careful to keep his tail from getting stuck in his chair, and spoke in his quiet, different-frequency voice:
[i]"Honored... host... hostess, on behalf of my people, I greet you as a possible friend or ally. Time will also tell what the relationship between our two peoples will become. In the meantime, I thank you for the enrichment our visit here has already brought. My people do not usually eat the fruit of planets, or any planet, nor do we have this soft fabric stretched across our flooring... we appear to live so much more simply, but so much more complex at the same time. We would not like to take any drastic steps, such as to install our own enforcers or any of power, nor give you technology. We would rather speed up your progress by a steady progression; giving you advanced technology, or even what would be primitive by our standards, may upset the balance of your economy and society, and possibly destroy the stability and peace that you have."[/i]

His soft voice paused, taking another moment to think, before taking another [rather small] breath [in comparison to everyone else], and continued. [i]"I think you are the least advanced of us all, since myself and these other two races are very obviously much more advanced than you. Currently, I've no reason to talk to either of them, because their ships in orbit around your moon here have not responded to our own attempts to communicate. We have taken insult at their ignoring of our attempts, and so we have decided to talk to you first, and only you for the time being, until their people in orbit deem it worth their time. We were here before either the winged or the ones most similar to you were here, and yet they ignore us completely. You, on the other hand, has received us as soon as comfortably possible. For this, you have our thanks."[/i] He gave an unusual smooth bow, observed from the interaction between the General, and continued once more. [i]"My people are eager to establish some kind of agreement between us. You are the first people that has been both friendly, and of bipedal nature."[/i]

He sat down, apparently finished, and obviously unaware of the proper title of "My Lady" and such. He did not appear to stare at the others, nor study them, though he was very closely. It appeared that they had eyes like the others, and while they were much more expressive, he figured they appeared quite cold and lifeless. He prayed to the Mother that he would not screw up in some way.