[b][center]Collab with: [@Tortoise] and [@Irredeemable][/center][/b]

Cassius Mesalla was never the one to question orders. But these orders seemed insane. Letting even more possible hostile aliens on board? They might claim they are human, but he has seen the security footage of the first delegation and that is not what a human looks like. But orders are orders, especially from a Guardian. The rest of the team seemed to respect Blackwood more than just as a superior officer, they had a history together, but Cassius had been assigned to the Squadron sometime after she left, so he never knew her personally. But it didn’t matter, he would never intentionally disobey a direct order.

He and Senja Angstrom grabbed their gear and weapons and got to the B-2 airlock just in time to see the ECU vessel dock. When the door opened and revealed the second delegation, only the years of training prevented the Reapers from laughing out loud. The new arrivals looked like they robbed storage of costumes used in the old movies and then randomly put the pieces together. On Ellara, people mostly wore their uniforms, or uniform-like modest clothing, usually of some darker color, nothing fancy was ever necessary. Even the ceremonial uniforms were plain and single-colored. To the Undefeated, these people looked like clowns.

But orders were orders, he kept repeating to himself, and Cassius was a professional. “Welcome aboard the Revenant. The Zeta delegation is already in a conference room. I will show you the way,” he said in a calm voice. He gestured to the guests to follow him.

Kelsie returned to the conference room. “I have just received word that the ECU delegation has docked and are on their way here,” she announced to the Zetans. The door opened at that moment, but it was just Petrova, carrying a large tray laid with various fruits and other delicacies that they had brought from Ellara. “This is Miss Julianna Petrova, she is a member of our science team and will stay for the negotiations.” There. It was an immediate idea, but Kelsie was glad she would not be alone with all these strange people. She intended to have the guards stay outside so the room wouldn’t get too crowded and the foreigners wouldn’t feel threatened. Fortunately, Julianna was smart enough not to look surprised, she just smiled and bowed her head towards the guests, moving quietly into a corner.

Then the door opened again, and this time stayed open for a second as the Student Abadi and her pilot stood in it, shocked.

She didn't even know which one to address. In all her dozens of "Student performance reviews," nobody had ever once described Abadi as open-minded. This was, of course, a great compliment in the Oligarchy, that fears innovation like a cat fears an empty food bowl, but still probably explained why it took her mind a second to process what was in front of her. Until something clicked.

One of the- cyborgs, robots, whatever they are- was wearing a dress. A really nice, old-fashioned one. Like any person on New Hollywood might.

“I am Student Abadi. Are you…” she finally realizes, “our Zetan colleagues?”

“Yes, indeed.” Sigma-Devi responded, performing the greeting with her hand once more. She indicated to her colleagues, re-introduced them, then smiled. “We have actually come into contact with your home system, your holographic technology is [b]very[/b] impressive.” She smiled widely. 

“You seem to have been… Inspired, by our ancestors. Your dress… Your architecture. It is most interesting.”

Kelsie sat quietly as the other diplomats talked, trying not to grin too much over the ECU representatives’ ridiculous attires. One thing she couldn’t figure out was how the hell was Sigma-Devi getting all that information. The Revenant was cut off from Ellara’s communication network as soon as they went through the Gateway and she assumed other vessels were in the same situation. The Zetan shuttle didn’t move, the Gateway didn’t activate, none other ships came through so far. Plus, she didn’t seem to be actually [i]communicating[/i] with anyone, engaged in a casual talk with the young girl representing the ECU. Kelsie glanced at Julianna, only to see that while there was a polite smile on her face, her eyes also kept studying Sigma-Devi and a tiniest frown suggested that the assistant was thinking about the same thing as Kelsie. 

Clearing her throat to get attention, she stood up to welcome the new delegation. “Welcome aboard the Revenant. This is Sigma-Devi, representing the Zeta system,” she waved her hand in the general direction of the Zetans, “and I am Guardian Kelsie Blackwood from the Undefeated nation from the planet Ellara. I have to say I am glad that so many other colonies have survived to this day. We haven’t had any contact with our home planet since we arrived here, so I don’t know if any other survivors haven’t come across our Gateway. You seem to be much better informed, Sigma-Devi,” Keslie smiled politely.

All these polite smiles and subtle questions; Abadi just left, and she already felt like she was back home. Never the most social Oligarch, maybe, but everyone of her kind grows up in gatherings like this. (With more drinking. And music.)

“Yes,” she forced a laugh when Sigma complimented the ECU’s holographic technology. “Or holograms are as solid as people. Sometimes I think they’re better than them, too.” This was intended as a joke. “So, do your people not have similar inventions?” And this was not. Her main mission, as she understands it, is to gauge these people as potential threats. Better start by finding out what they know.

She takes an empty seat around the table without asking, and leaves her pilot standing by the doorway. “Perhaps an exchange would be possible, one day. Your cybernetics seem… deeply fascinating.” 

The duo behind Sigma-Devi fell back a little, the most human of the trio taking center stage during the negotiations. “Yes, It seems our communication technologies are superior to yours,” she said blandly. The Consciousness had feared that their links would be separated when going through the portal, but they had managed excellency- not even a hint of latency. Quantum entanglement really was a wonderful thing.

Reaching for one of the morsels presented by Blackwood’s team, the Zetan popped a piece into her mouth, chewed slowly, and considered the flavours as Abadi talked. “No- we ventured down alternate routes. Such as our robotics and cybernetics.” She beamed.

“Many of them were made in a direct response to our material conditions: Zeta-5 rather dislikes fragile life like humanity.” She turned back towards her red-eyed colleague, gesturing gently towards him. “But now, they’re part of the fabric of our society. There is not a Zetan alive today made wholly of flesh.”

Not a single one? Abadi tried to stop her skin from crawling. In the holo-tapes her people were all raised on, anyone who said something like that would be revealed as a villain in the second act. Or maybe the third, if they’re trying for suspense. The violins are already playing in her head.

“Does that cause you any discomfort?” The most polite way she can think to phrase [i]‘How do you live like that?’[/i]

“Discomfort?” Sigma-Devi blinked a few times, then smiled pleasantly. “No, no, of course not. In fact, without metal, we’d be left much worse off.” She paused for a moment, contemplating how to explain this best. “The baseline human form developed in direct response to the conditions on Earth. When we arrived in Zeta, we found ourselves in the troubling position of needing to adapt faster than was biologically possible.”

She reached up to touch at the metal that now made up her throat. “This is how we adapted. Zetans don’t undergo large-scale implantation against their will- it’s merely a slow process of changing to fit their niche in society.”

Abadi adjusted her hat for a second. In Oligarch society, this meant one was thinking. Right now, her thoughts are about having her organs replaced with whirring, trembling mechanisms. They’re not very nice ones.

“I… suppose I understand,” she confessed. “In my society, such things have sometimes been proposed, but are never accepted.” Obviously. “As you mention, our culture is inspired by that of Old Earth.” She repeats what she was taught to say from infancy: “We strive to keep the memory alive.” 

The Oligarch realized how rude this probably was as soon as the words left her mouth. Remembering the voice of her Persuasions teacher scolding her, she caught herself: “But I believe I understand your situation.” She never felt as elegant as the likes of Heralds or even that idiot Tanaka, and now it was almost tangible. “We have great terraforming technologies in our hands. I do wonder how possible it might be to, uh, help with the situation on Zeta.”

“Hmm.” Sigma-Devi considered the last part and paused for a long time. Internally, the Collective was deciding, disseminating, reacting, processing. Finally, she went with a deliberately non-committal answer. “We shall have to see. As for your own peoples, we can provide some of our enhancement technology. I assure you that you’ll be pleasantly surprised at the difference. Be it noses capable of detecting ozone levels to read stormfronts to lungs that can process liquids, we’ve produced some rather marvellous creations.”

She continued on. “It is good to hear you keep Old Earth alive. Our memory archives still speak of Her, in Her prime, before we ruined it, and turned it into.” Sigma-Devi looked at one of the walls, through which all knew what sat. “Perhaps one day we can recover it.”

When the cyborgs offered implants, Abadi’s mouth actually fell open. She was only just working it shut again when Sigma-Devi mentioned Old Earth, and alright, that did tug her heart-strings a little. But that’s because she still has a heart. Not a lump of metal or a clock or whatever the Zetans use.

“Perhaps.” Abadi said, quietly. “Perhaps we can recover Earth, that is. We wish to…” But. “However, while I will run through your suggestion to the Noocracy, I feel obligated to tell you now that no enhancements will be allowed. I do not wish to offend, but the human form is as sacred to us as the human soul and culture. We could not change it.” Her head shook. And her blood was getting a little hotter than it should be. “Ever.”

Across the room, she noticed her pilot was studiously avoiding everyone with his eyes. Nobody was comfortable here.

Sigma-Devi pulled back slightly. “What does that make us to you then?” She frowned. “Are we less than you, for the material conditions we had to adapt to? Surely you must understand that the human form has frailties and limits- do you also not set broken bones, or stymie the effects of senescence? Should my fellow here have let his eyes grow cancerous enough to consume him, to preserve the sanctity of his human form?”

The answer was yes. Yes, he should have. If you are not human, why does it matter if you live? You don’t care if a [i]thing[/i] dies. But Student Abadi realized she should not say that here, on this strange ship. 

“Of course, I understand the medical applications,” she ventured. “But there has been a great fear among my people, since our early days- our planet is soaked in radiation, you see,” only a slight exaggeration, “and early settlers feared that the genetic damage may become so severe that, generations later, we would not technically be humans at all anymore. And then what are we preserving? If our goal as colonists was to save humanity, and we give that up to survive, then… what have we survived for the sake of?” 

These things were taught to her from childhood. She never heard someone question them until now. Is this what foreign contact would be like? Part of her already feared she was being too harsh, but she knew no other way to think, or to speak.

“Zeta is…” Sigma-Devi paused for a long moment, before turning to her colleague- Alpha-Newton, who stepped up. His eyes blinked off for a moment, then [i]whirred[/i] faintly. Projected out onto the table, between the food and the oil stains and scratches, was an image.

A barren, blasted rockface stretched out, the wind howling across it. Snow was visible across the cracked and moistureless soil, without a sign of shade nor life. “Surface temperature…” Alpha-Newton paused. “235 Kelvin. Snowfront of 193 Kelvin just passed, Searfront of 323 Kelvin rapidly approaching. Surface radiation measurements… Unsustainable for human habitation.” From underneath the soil, a creature sprung out. It was low to the ground, a scaly, dirty-brown colour. It scuttled about on six legs, and from its head protruded a strange, flat surface that it set about scooping up the snow with. No sooner had it touched the appendage than it melted, the liquid water greedily gulped up.
Less than a minute after surfacing to drink, the creature vanished back into one of the drought-made fissures. 

“This is Zeta,” Alpha-Newton declared. “The Alpha-Asphodel Plain. I was born beneath the ground not far from here.” The cyborg’s projector shut itself off. 

“When we thought ourselves the last of humankind,” Sigma-Devi continued. “We had to consider what was more important. To cling stubbornly to an outdated form, or to carry mankind’s torch forward however we could. We like to think we succeeded.”

Abadi nodded seriously. “I’m sure it is a harsh place. But my question is this: if you have cast aside your human form, are you really carrying mankind’s torch forward? Or is it a new one?”

“It is mankind’s. Consider.” She gestured. “Devi. Newton. Babbage. My dress. The [i]Asphodel[/i] Plains. Our democratic systems. We stand upon the shoulders of every generation of humanity that strived to send us to the stars, and bring them with us.”

‘Betrayal’ was a word that came closer, in Abadi’s mind. But there was a feeling nagging at her. It’s time to disengage.

She sighed at length. “Well, I will not argue with you. I’m sure we have worn enough on our host’s patience.” What did the crew of the Revenant think of all this? “And you have given my people much to think about, I can say. I will make a full report to our elected leader, the Savant, when I return home.”

Kelsie sat quietly as Abadi and Sigma-Devi exchanged harsher and colder responses. Is this what diplomacy looks like? If so, she would prefer open combat any time. These seemingly polite questions and cryptic answers, several meanings hidden in every sentence, arrogance, and abhorrence hidden behind courteous masks. She was a military woman, for christ’s sake! Put a gun in her hand and point her in the right direction and she would not stop until she won or died. But this? This was like running through a minefield blindfolded.

She didn’t have time to properly think about all the arguments, but making quick decisions was something she was trained to do. And there really was not much deciding on which side of the argument should she join. Yes, she could have stayed neutral, but what Sigma-Devi kept suggesting was just… wrong. Logical, maybe, but still wrong.

“I have to side with Student Abadi here. You can consider yourself carrying mankind’s torch, using Earth words to name things.” And they aren’t real names, just for your information, Kelsie wanted to add. “I even understand the need for such development. But haven’t you strode off the ‘human’ path so far that you deserve to be called something else?” Kelsie realized that she just told her guests they weren’t human enough. What the hell was she doing?

“We have been facing a similar choice soon after landing on Ellara. The planet, while beautiful and seemingly hospitable, hid so many dangers that nearly destroyed our colony before it could start to grow. But we decided to hold on to what makes us human, not change what we are.” Kelsie stopped for a moment. “I think we should pause these negotiations until we have had a chance to talk to our respective governments since our communication technologies aren’t as advanced as yours.” She probably should have kept that last bit to herself, but she just couldn’t help it. These things come here all arrogant proposing to expand their atrocious ideas to other cultures? ‘You are not coming anywhere near Ellara,’ Kelsie promised to herself.

While the soldier woman was speaking, and saying some very comforting things, Abadi had her first moment to think clearly since coming onboard. What would the Noocracy’s reaction to this be? She’d only once met the Savant, but she could already remember his steel eyes just sizing her down, like a puzzle he already solved. And she would need to convince him this had been progress.

But it hadn’t been. This meet-up was an argument wrapped in diplomacy, taking place over the husk of Old Earth, where nobody was comfortable and everybody was offended. And it all sounded like a horrible prelude to… not war, hopefully, but something.

The Zetan and the ECU should be counted as unfriendly towards each other, that much is obvious. But what about the Undefeated? A potential ally? At least, the enemy of an enemy? Time will have to tell.

“So that is how it’s going to be?” Sigma-Devi turned to look at each of the representatives in turn. “I hope the rest of your nations prove more open minded than you have shown yourselves to be here. I would hate for disagreements to arise because we are not considered humans.” Omega-Babbage didn’t have to try to accentuate her veiled threat with a more overt one- there was a crackle, a snap, and then the scent of ozone filled the air as a powerful electrical discharge worked its way out. The Collective would not suffer itself to be backed into a corner and trodden upon for their technological advancements. [i]It is much better,[/i] read one Old Earth document. [i]To be feared than loved, if one cannot be both.[/i] Then, Sigma-Devi’s demeanour changed.

Although Omega-Newton’s body was still positioned in that forward, predatory stance, and made no indication that the electrical discharge had been a mistake, its companion picked up another bit of food. “I will, however,” the woman offered. “Say that this is quite tasty indeed.” 

[i]We must find more reasonable individuals. More sensible ones. Ones that understand that metal does not change man any more than the clothes on their back or the tools in their hands.[/i]