[center][b][h2]Aboard the I.S.S. Prize[/h2][/b]
[h3][i]What is Truth?[/i][/h3][/center]
[hr]

The [i]Prize[/i], pride ship of the Terran Starfleet, was threatening to shake apart. Again. And, this time, it wasn't because of pirates or torpedoes. They had finally entered into Kepler's Passage, the stable wormhole on the edge of ISA space. It was... magnificent. Magnificent, and scary.

This ship is the first ISA vessel to travel through any wormhole, so Captain Carabello had no idea what to expect. All the models bravely proclaimed that the Prize would pass through intact, but one could hardly guess what it would look like inside. 

What the Bridge crew saw is hard to explain. From the outside, the "wormhole" looked more like a sphere filled with lights, like a crystal ball. On the inside, while traveling through it, they could see their destination on the horizon, but it was bordered by colorful, distorted rings of stars. It was surreal. Nick briefly wondered if they really would pass through it alive...

[center]-----[/center]

...and then they did. With a jolt, the [i]Prize[/i] was deposited on the outer edge of a foreign solar system. None of the stars outside were familiar. Neither are the three suns orbiting eachother at the center of the system. Or the large, Earth-like planet that sensors are already picking up.

And amidst all this, a little ship is approaching. It's too small to carry more than one or two Terrans, but there's no telling what the natives of this system look like. It does not appear to be armed. After a moment, a crewmen tells Carabello that they're receiving an audio-only hail from the vessel.

"Good," Nick replies, "We might have friends already. Hailing frequencies open." When the affirmative is given, he speaks up: "This is Captain Niccolò Carabello," he starts, "of the ISA ship ISS Prize. We have ju-"

"Are you the ones foreseen?" A voice from the shuttle interrupts. "You must tell me now."

"...I'm sorry?" Nicks asks. He wanted to ask a lot more than that, but that would not be diplomatically wise.

"Are you the ones foreseen? The ones the Holy [i]Vei[/i] saw?" The voice was coming through clearly: she was a woman, very excited, but there was this undercurrent of anxiety in her tone. "The Travelers who come through the passage?"

Tricky. This "foreseeing," plus the use of a word the Universal Translator calls "Holy," sounds like religious speech. If it is, then no answer can be safe until you know what the religion believes. For all Nick knows right now, the "Travelers" are set to be executed.

"Well," the Captain answers slowly, "we [i]are[/i] travelers. And we did come though the passage. We call it Kepler's Passage, actua-"

"I knew it!" the excited woman exclaims. "You're them!" And before Nick can say a word back, the line's cut. 

Ominous. 

[center]-----[/center]

An hour later, a loan ship appears out of FTL. It's massive, but not in a way that reads as a threat. It might be armed, but to Nick's eyes, it seems less advanced than the [i]Prize[/i]. And a quick scan confirms it: the ship is armed, even bigger than the [i]Prize[/i], but with weapons that look like Alliance equivalents about 70 years ago. 

Before they can be hailed, the aliens transmits a text-only message: [i]Follow[/i].

Captain Carabello complies. Contacting new life is a major part of the [i]Prize[/i]'s mission. Whatever these aliens might be, or might believe, they haven't threatened yet. 

So they follow. Their alien escort leads them towards the Earth-like planet. As they draw closer, one can see the tell-tale signs of advanced life: lights that must be cities web across the land, obscured by a faint haze of pollution. But there's something else. Where Earth would have swathes of green, representing forests and jungles, this planet has a shade of blue so bright that it's nearly glowing.

About halfway into orbit, Carabello tries hailing the escort. Maybe they could finally see the alien's faces? But they don't pick up. He tries again. They don't, again. "Maybe they don't have the technology for video hails?" Nick wonders aloud. "Try a text-only message, like their ship has been sending."

That doesn't work either. 

So, either the aliens are even less advanced than they seem, or they're ignoring the [i]Prize[/i]. Is there a way to find out? "Divert our course," Carabello orders the pilot, "just a bit. I'm testing them." 

At first, nothing happens. But as the [i]Prize [/i]moves further and further from their course, the alien vessel is more and more agitated. They try drifting in circles around the [i]Prize[/i], to force them back on course towards the planet, but the smaller ISA ship slips by them. Then they try catching up, but can't quite match the [i]Prize[/i]'s speed. 

After about 10 minutes of this, the aliens seem to give up. Their outdated engines power down, and the escort ship hangs aimlessly in space, defeated. Nick feels kind of bad for them. Then another text-only message comes in: [i]Follow[/i].

Well, they're persistent. Maybe now they'll talk back? Nick sends something back to the aliens: [i]Why?[/i]
There's a delay, for about a minute, before the aliens respond. But at least they do. [i]Because you are the Travelers[/i], the reply reads.
[i]How do you know?[/i] Nick sends back. [i]Who are the Travelers?[/i]
[i]Follow[/i], the aliens helpfully answer.

Fine. Nick orders to follow them again. All the way down, pass the two moons that orbit, through the hazy atmosphere, and into a prepared clearing in the middle of a massive forest. While they comply with a signal to land, the Bridge crew can get a clear view of their surroundings.

And... wow. Nick is nearly stunned. The forest really is bright blue, and the plants really [i]do [/i]glow. That hadn't just been a trick of the atmosphere. The trees are taller than any on Earth, going up at least 100 meters, and little vines scurry along their base. Instead of grass, the [i]Prize [/i]is set down on a luminescent floor of roots and moss. Off in the distance, Nick spots a silhouette of stone huts that look ancient and abandoned. The escort ship stays hovering overhead. 

Finally, the [i]Prize[/i] receives a hail. It's audio-only. "At least it's not text again," Carabello remarks. "Answer it."

The voice that speaks sounds identical to the one from the shuttle. "Travelers," she addresses them, "the Holy Vei must speak to you. Prepare a delegation to meet her. A transport will come to take you. Soon."

Before anyone can ask any questions, the line is cut. That was really getting old.

[center]-----[/center]

A few more minutes later, the Captain is standing in front of a Situation Room meeting. All the Away Team and other senior staff were invited, of course. Plus Elm, the Botanist who Nick had met back on Deep Solar 3, and the Medical Anthropologist named Denise. The former because of this planet's unique plant biology, and the later because of her anthropological and spiritual experience.

For any who weren't present on the Bridge, Nick runs down everything that happened. From the strange meeting with the shuttle, to the strange escort ship, right down to the strange instructions to assemble a delegation.

"It's... strange," Nick continues. "But the optimist in me wants to believe that these people have good intentions. They've asked us to meet with someone who sounds like their leader. So I'll be going to see her, along with anyone else who feels they should come. We don't know anything about this Holy Vei's intentions, however, so I will understand if anyone is hesitant. I'm asking for volunteers.

"For the rest of you: there's still work to be done here."

He clears his throat.

"For one, we don't know anything about this planet. While our friends are odd, I don't believe they are hostile." Hopefully not, anyway. "So I would like to assemble a few parties to scout the nearby area. Study the forest, or look into the stone ruins nearby. See what we can learn about this world." He frowns. "Of course, it looks like they've dropped us in the middle of nowhere. I doubt you'll run into any people."

The Captain sits down, now. "And that's where we're at. This isn't how we usually meet new races, but First Contact procedures still apply. We're going to try to make friends with these people, if we can." 

One last bit. Almost done. "So," Nick finishes, "any questions? Comments? Complaints?"