Itxaro was still reeling when the commander appeared in the airlock with the others. She snapped back to the airlock window, now laser-focused on the scene playing out in the shuttle bay. The creatures looked like something out of a medieval artist's fever dream, a mix of human and animal physiology. The dominant caste was a massive, upright bird, easily a foot or more taller than her, but they varied widely in appearance as much as birds on Earth. A second species could only be described as a centaur with the head of a stag, wearing leather armor; Itxaro briefly imagined herself riding the centaur-elk into battle in full plate armor, thrusting a spear into her foes, but figured the creature wouldn't appreciate being ridden like a horse. The third took a moment to even recognize as a living being at all; it had a roughly humanoid figure, but resembled a smoldering tree more than anything. Perhaps it was some form of protection, she reasoned, but how could she even begin to speculate? 

Even from her cursory observations, Itxaro [i]knew[/i] these natives were sentient. The intricate armor one wore was the first giveaway, but she could tell just from the way they carried themselves that these interlopers were probably just as intelligent as the entire crew of the Jo. Compared to the Yenge’s cephalopod-like anatomy, they almost seemed human. A thousand questions ran through her head, and she found herself totally entranced. What was their history like? How did a world develop differently with multiple sentient species? Had they achieved world socialism yet? [i]That would give the neo-Posadists back home a fit.[/i]

Her eyes grew even wider as several metallic orbs seemed to float about the shuttle bay. The objects sparked like a plasma globe and moved with purpose, manipulated by one of the bird-like entities without any physical touch. She watched in a trance as the blackened tree-thing conjured flames from nothing, creating symbols that hung suspended far longer than ephemeral sparks could. [i]They're trying to communicate.[/i]

Once the communication barrier between mankind and Yenge had been broken, it was almost a disappointment; yes, the Yenge held the secret to faster-than-light travel, but humanity had already been on the brink of that discovery. Another 100 years and Itxaro was convinced they would have been colonizing the stars, Yenge or not. Outside of that, the Yenge were a letdown. No galaxy-spanning civilization come to dazzle them with new technologies or uplift them to an interstellar government, but instead a decimated people seeking asylum. These natives, on the other hand, might hold even more mysteries than the Yenge. [i]Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.[/i] A trite old saying, but to Itxaro it felt appropriate.

Itxaro was brought back to the present when the carbine was thrust back into her hands. "What the hell am [i]I[/i] supposed to do with this?" Itxaro muttered, as if she hadn't been the one who took it from the armory for a last stand against interstellar mercenaries. She clumsily removed the magazine and stowed the rifle against the airlock wall, favoring the revolver, though she didn't intend to use it on their guests. Still, as the airlock hissed open, she held the gun loosely in her hand. Insurance in case the Tamerlane men decided to try something. She made sure to follow the commander's example and keep Darnell in front of her. 

Of course, Dr. Ibarra immediately broke rank when she spotted Vigdis working on what seemed like mathematics with one of the aliens. "Playing nice with the locals Vigdis? Who's your friend?" She asked as she strode over, eager to investigate. The engineer seemed a little frazzled, but the aliens hadn't done her any harm; if anything, they seemed just as interested in the humans as she was in them. As if on cue, the one nearest to Vigdis spoke, much to Itxaro's delight, and said both Vigdis' name and what she assumed was its own. The voice reminded her of corvids from Earth who mimicked human speech, but only in the broadest sense. "Kah-reet. Kareet," she repeated as she pointed to the creature, both to indicate her understanding and test out the alien language on her own tongue. She pointed to herself and said, "Itxaro," deciding to save titles and surnames for later. 

Dr. Ibarra felt like she was meeting a celebrity. She wanted to reach out and shake the alien's hand, but decided against it, instead turning her attention to the figured Vigdis and her figures scrawled out on a piece of aluminum. "Hmm, I would have started with Spanish and worked from there, but I get where you're going," she joked. In truth, it was a solid foundation to work from. First contact with the Yenge had been purely mathematical, a transfer of data back and forth until a common language had been established almost from scratch. Itxaro wasn't sure if they had that kind of time or resources though. Instead, she opted for the old-fashioned way that cultures throughout mankind's history had used when encountering each other. Pointing. Itxaro pointed at each human in the shuttle bay and said, "Human. Human. Human. Human. Human." She finally reached herself and put a finger to her chest, hoping the message would get across. "Human." 

Itxarto felt a growing desperation to communicate with the natives. There was so much to learn, so much to share. Her head was reeling with the possibilities, the Jo's busted FTL drive the last thing on her mind now. She wondered what resources they had on the ship that could be used to teach the aliens one of Earth's many languages. Did they even have a physical dictionary on board the Jo? Probably not. Perhaps the ship-bound AI could be used to translate, as much as she hated to use the dreaded technology. If it came down to it, she was perfectly content to sit here the rest of her life, pointing at things in the alien's presence.