Post by Commander Of Games on Aug 24, 2014 17:04:08 GMT -6
Organic Life Research (Basic): 19/25
"Unfortunate. Our translation is complete. We will speak to the Cphea directly now. Thank you for your assistance. We will return to conversing with you shortly." The channel is closed, and one to the Cphea is opened. "Why can you not supply us with what we request? Do you have no undesirables? If you do not have any normal examples of your species you are willing to give to us, we will take your Defectives. I am sure you would like to be rid of them."
"Kirbali, initiate transit," Pell ordered as he flipped through the book before coming to a page on the star that was their destination. At least 6 planets, possibly up to 9 with at least 1 habitable. Possibility of radio-frequency transmissions. Here's hoping they're as agreeable as the Insar. Leaning back in to the intercom, Pell asked "Do you think it would be possible to rig up portable translation devices that would share time with the linguistics computer?"
THE BUREAU OF EXTRAPLANETARY ACQUISITIONS DOES NOT DEAL IN SLAVES FULLSTOP, came the reply to the Celae.
Kirbali told the computer to navigate towards the star of Pell's interest. As the ship entered hyperspace, everything seemed to lurch forwards. Pell, who hadn't done much hyperdrive travel, may feel nauseous. The transfer into hyperspace wasn't as smooth as it was in an Insar piloted ship. "Translation device? I'm not sure if I could rig one up in time, or even if I have the parts. I'll see what I can come up with though," answered Hulhor.
Pell started coughing, desperately holding back a rush of bile. "Thanks," he gasped before flicking off the intercom to engineering. Is the drive really in full operating condition? "How long does a transit take?" he asked of nobody in particular, breathing slowly in an attempt to steady his stomach.
WE ARE SIMPLY INCAPABLE OF PROVIDING LIVING SAPIENT SUBJECTS AT THIS TIME STOP WHY IS IT THAT YOU REQUIRE SAPIENT SUBJECTS QUERY
Post by Wrangler Civil Corpsman on Aug 24, 2014 20:50:26 GMT -6
Thornley rolls his eyes, sighing in exasperation. "Worse. Politics got in the way. There are plenty of people back home who have no interest in exploration. Unfortunately, our... leaders are some such individuals and subsequently they give the barest minimum in terms of funding. Which is how we got here." The senior crew member snorts derisively. "Politicians..."
Usseq strode over to the podium, standing before what were presumably the highest ranking administrators of the Bureau - you never truly know in an organization with such a serpentine hierarchical structure. After plopping down and opening the folder that contained his acceptance speech, he adjusted the microphone and put on his reading glasses. I have one shot at this, he thought. Work with what you're given. "I'm grateful to have been chosen to be the next Director of Studies. Pell's death may have left a bad taste in all of our mouths, but as we have done since we rose from the ashes of the War, we've worked with what the Fates have handed us. We have not hungered for more, as our ancestors did, nor have we rudely pushed away what little scraps we've been dispensed. Pell held to that philosophy more than any of us. He's the one who led us to the discovery of subspace communications. He's the one who turned our receivers to the stars, who detected the first of the anomalous bursts that we now know as the signatures of superluminal travel by our alien neighbors." Pausing to adjust his glasses, Usseq continued: "So we must continue with our philosophy. What do we have now? Samples of alien technologies that can, some day, take us to the stars. In fact, our outpost on Getrie recently reported contact with another race - and one that seems willing enough to simply hand us their drive schema. So we're going to work with what we've been given, and the first project under my wing?" He took some seconds to flip the page, reveling in the complete and utter silence. Calm before the storm. This is going to be the most controversial decision in a hundred years. Everybody on Sahran is going to know about me within a day. Time to pick what Pell planted. "We're going to tear into the reactors, the engines, and the computing systems that we bought from the Latesi at the price of an entire moon. We're going to make do with what Terl shoved into our talons, and we're going to make them ubiquitous. Not a single household among the commons will lack computers a match for those we once had, powered by the smashing of hydrogen atoms. We will take back what the War stole from us; we will once again be a Type 1 society with industry to match our interstellar neighbors. And, up above, a new flagship will grace the fleet and lead the first Cphea mission to cross the void between stars." A disturbing silence filled the room; where there would normally be meaningless ceremony to meet meaningless speech, not one had the first inklings of how to respond to what might as well have been the ravings of a lunatic. They're thinking they're going to throw me from orbit for this. Just wait until their PSI lapdogs find out how widespread the Movement is.
Only half-listening to Thornley, Inera focused on the now near-constant stream of Code from the receiver. "Your politicians sound rather embarassing. Engineering wants me to inform you that they're going to be hooking up a basic chemical propulsion system with self-contained controls. However, If preferable, it should be easy enough for your crew route the input to somewhere other than the control pod." Some more chatter from the receiver. "Also, the other race's... the Celae ship has dropped off our scopes. Its location is uncertain, but its expected that if its still on course here then it should arrive soon enough. However, we do have some escorts - just in case a firefight breaks out. We doubt that one will, but... best be safe. Are the Great Expectation's guns operational?"
Some more flares from the surface; the dispatch of engines and propellant tanks to orbit.
WE APOLOGIZE BUT WE ARE INCAPABLE OF HELPING YOU FULLSTOP
Post by Wrangler Civil Corpsman on Aug 25, 2014 15:01:53 GMT -6
"Even if they were, they're only a deterrent. I don't even think we carry 100mm ammunition on this ship." Most of the crewmen began drifting back to their posts, leaving only Thornley, who returns to the intercom.
-"Hey, Andre, do we keep ammo for the turrets?"
-"What...? Yeah, but... like, barely any... Why?"
-"You think this ship could defend itself?"
-"Against... I dunno, a passenger ship, probably..."
-"Hey navigator, how's getting those drive thingies?"
-"Yeah, about that. Cap'n's terminal doesn't have anything. Aaaaand we... can't make a physical copy off my terminal. For whatever reason."
-"You'd think these ships would have printers, or something."
-"Doesn't Engineering keep one?"
-"Nah, they already said their copy got blown out."
-"No, I mean, don't they have a printer?"
-"Ohh. They have a multi-use one... But it has to be manually connected. With a cable."
-"Do we have a cable long enough for that?"
-"No... Unless you get Ilias to go jury-rig one."
-"Alright, give me a moment... Hey Ilias! Go down to Cargo and rig an extra-long connector cable. Like, extra-extra-long. Really-fucking-long long. And try not to choke anyone with it. What do you mean, 'type'? Go ask Engineering..."
The man leans against the wall with a sigh. "Sorry, we're doing our best."
"We get out what we put in. Since we're not expecting anybody where we're headed, the weapons systems are unpowered. We'll get there pretty quickly," replied Sayot. "We aren't expecting anybody there, right?"
"Fair enough. As long as the engineers get those blueprints, we should be able to have your ship in some semblance of operating condition within a couple of days, if not hours. However, your faster-than-light drive's power requirements are of some concern," Inera turned, gesturing at the airlock. "I should be heading back. If there are any other questions or concerns, best pass them on to your navigator before he meets us."
The transports released their cargo of components and took up their cargo of scrap before performing de-orbit burns. Several smaller personal craft began tugging the engine, tanks, and control pod into position for the connection.
"They can power up fast enough to shoot down any missiles that we may or may not find flying at us, right?" replied Pell matter-of-factly.
Last Edit: Aug 25, 2014 20:04:28 GMT -6 by aumnivers
She was on the verge of falling asleep when strange noises started coming from the display, and Sheena shot back to a sitting position. All right, she thought, struggling to come to full wakefulness. What's going on now? The image on the screen stopped rapidly swinging from side to side as the uplift slowed, then stopped. Ahead, a large muddy pond surrounded by forest floor flora appeared out of the blur as the camera stopped moving around. At the surface of the pond was another of the uplift's species. Then another set of eyes broke the surface.
The uplift and the wild creature seemed to converse in the stramge noises for a while before the uplift started moving forwards again. The display went dark grey-brown as the uplift slid into the pond, and Lieutenant Sheena felt elated. Mission accomplished. The uplifts will start spreading nanodrones to others of their species. Within three days, they'll have human-level intelligence. Within a week, they'll get the urge to return to the dissemination point, and the Fury will have some visitors.
Last Edit: Aug 27, 2014 12:56:04 GMT -6 by RedDwarfIV
If every cloud had a silver lining, there would be a lot more plane crashes.
"Yeah, point defense can go up pretty quick-" Sayot stopped mid-sentence, as the ship exited hyperspace."Ugh. Rough. Hope it's just Luvos error," he said. "Anyway, point defense can go up pretty quickly. We should be fine." "On the edge of the system now," said Kirbali. Sayot nearly shouted. "I'm getting hit with subspace communication waves on all frequencies. Someone's here." A Celestial Federation sensor array had detected Pell's ship arriving on the edge of the system, and was now attempting to contact it. The ship's linguistics computer began to try to translate the message sent.
"Kirbali, based on the power and location - presuming you can find it - of the source of the emissions, give me an estimate as to what you think might be the source. Whether its a probe or a ship or a starbase or something. Tolos, seeing as weapons might not be the most urgent thing at the moment, see about getting us on a course towards wherever Kirbali finds the source of these transmissions to be. Sayot, once translation of their message is done, try sending them a notice that we're an exploratory vessel on a peaceful mission to establish contact with other races, if that's at all possible." His hand a blaze across several pages of the book, Pell flicked the intercom switch to engineering and continued "Hulhor, put any power we have to spare into whatever sensory apparatus this ship has."
"Yes, sir." Kirbali said, hitting keys on her keyboard and staring intently at her screen. "Signals are coming from the fourth planet in the system. Probably from a station, signals this clear don't normally come from below the atmosphere." Tolos got up, moving quickly towards the navigation computer. He entered a view of the system, as shown by sensors. He set a course towards the fourth planet. "Translation's pretty automatic, I'll see what it spits out first," said Sayot. The computer began to talk in a synthesized voice. It also displayed a text readout. "Unknown vessel, identify yourself. You are *walking in on* *starlike* *group* space." "Huh. Yeah, it needs some time," Sayot commented. "Our message back will probably come out as.. minced.. as that." Hulhor talked back on the intercom. "It doesn't work that way. Our sensors have an operating load. If I go below that, they won't work, and if I go above it, something will burn out."
"Fair enough," said Pell before shutting off the line to engineering. "Fair enough," he also responded to Sayot. "As long as it isn't 'minced' irreparably, it should be fine. Kirbali, able to get any readings on the hypothetical station - or, even better, any ships?"
"Hello, Terl," Usseq stated as he entered the governor's office. "So they did cast you from the sky. "Like a rock." "Join the party." "Funny. They put someone else in the group in office. Really, I think it was just an act of spite." "Good enough," said Terl, crossing his office and shutting the window overlooking the city square. "Any other news?" "The shipyards are busy picking out debris from the last hundred years for construction of the first of the proposed class of vessels. Should start throwing the pieces together soon - of the frame at least. Some of the more sensitive equipment and fine details still needs to be worked out in orbit. Investigations is going to be watching over the whole project, however, so we've had to avoid telling the plan to our affiliates."
Last Edit: Aug 28, 2014 6:52:26 GMT -6 by aumnivers
"We'll have to get closer. I can see that it's in high equatorial orbit, but I can't get anything specific from it. Just that it exists," said Kirbali. "I think I'm picking up engine exhaust. There are flashes of energy, like a nuclear device detonating," she continued. "Trying again," said Sayot. The computer displayed another message after a few minutes. "Unknown vessel, identify yourself. You are intruding upon Celestial Federation space." "Who do we say we're exploring for? Latesi?" asked Sayot.
"Enough information to deduce the mass of the craft, Kirbali?" Pell queried, before turning to Sayot. "Tell them we're... market researchers from the Latesi, and that we've come here with the goal of opening interstellar communications and trade." Turning again to Tolos, he added: "Is the computer able to automatically prepare an intercept with the vessel that they're sending out to us?"
"It's big. Bigger than anything we or the Insar have ever fielded," answered Kirbali. "Right," said Sayot, and turned on his side of the communications. "This is a market research vessel under the employment of the Latesi Corporation, and we have come to offer interstellar trade and communications with you." There was a moment before there was a response. "Latesi vessel. Have you any relation to the Celaen Order?" "Of course," said Tolos, who set a course to intercept the approaching Federation blip.
The base wasn't exactly homelike, but Aaron was still impressed by how much his people had done in such a short amount of time. None of the rooms had yet been furnished, but the space for dormitories, living areas, eating areas, and laboratories were already in place. So was a passive air vent, along with a stairwell up to a camoflaged obervation lookout on top of the rocky outcrop. Halfway up those stairs was another corridor leading to a room right next to the rockface, above the base entrance. There was a slit 20 centimetres high running along the wall to let anyone inside look over the area in front of the entrance... including the gun team that would operate the repurposed damaged mining laser. Aaron didn't expect it to be needed any time soon, but the gun team had been told to take up position there if Action Stations was sounded.
Overall, he thought, things were going well so far. He made a mental note to ask the mining team to make a space large enough for the Fury itself, so that it would be less likely to be noticed. And especially so that the crew wouldn't have to keep traipsing out in the open between the spacecraft and the base every time they needed something.
If every cloud had a silver lining, there would be a lot more plane crashes.
Pell thought for a moment, before ordering Sayot: "Inform them that we are only affiliated with the Latesi, and do not know what the 'Celaen Order' is."
"Just what-" said Usseq, as he barged into Terl's office, newspaper in hand: "-Is this? 'Bureau develops new energy source?' Tell me what that's a picture of." Terl turned his gaze up at the headline Usseq indicated, saying "One of those fusion reactors, I know." before returning his eyes to the sheaf of papers on his desk. "I knew the papers on the ground were bad, and they were before I went up, but it's like they've gotten worse." He flipped through the pages before pulling out one and throwing away the rest. "The sports section is the only bit that's even barely truthful. Hey, what's that?" Terl pushed one of the papers, this one covered in Bureau code, to Usseq. "Pell may or may not be quite as dead as we thought." "How did- you don't keep a receiver down here, do you? Isn't that kind of illegal?" "I'm sure my staff wouldn't tell." "Wha- oh. Of course. Yes, your staff is sworn to secrecy." "You can keep that document, one of our associates sent it to me by narrow beam," Terl said, standing and striding over to a cabinet. "Oh, I forgot to ask: what are you doing here this early? I thought I told everybody to come in a few hours late. Investigations is going to have someone here soon to give me the usual talk; I don't want any more minds here than are necessary." "Oh, right. Sorry. When should I be back by?" Terl sighed, before saying "You're off for the day, do whatever. If there's any more major news, I'll get it to you by courier."
"We are only affiliated with the Latesi, we have not heard of the Celaen Order," said Sayot into the microphone. "Good. As you are corporate researchers, it is inferred you would like information. Is this conversation more convenient over this ship to ship communication channel, or would you be able to talk face to face?" asked the alien on the other end of the line.
"Say... that while ship-to-ship is nice, we would prefer face-to-face. As well, what atmosphere do they breathe?" Switching on the intercom to atmospherics, Pell continued "Luhur, do we have environment suits fitted for everybody on this ship?"
Post by Commander Of Games on Aug 29, 2014 22:17:38 GMT -6
Organic Life Research (Basic): 22/25
"Unfortunate. We will continue discussions with you on other matters later. Transmission end." The shiplord re-opens communications to KT-11. "Our apologies. The Cphea cannot help us. Now then. We believe a mutual friendship between our species would be in the best interests of all parties. What do you say to this?" He asked the Insar.
"We've got atmospheric suits, not sure if one would fit you though," answered Luhur via intercom. Sayot spoke again. "A face to face meeting is preferred. And on that subject, what kind of atmosphere do you breathe?" "A ship will be sent to meet you. Our preferred atmospheric composition is around 70% nitrogen and 30% oxygen," answered the alien. "Sounds like it's fine for us," said Sayot, microphone muted.
"I do not deal in friendships. If you are willing to enter a business relationship with us, then we will exchange favors and materials equally. The Cphea have entered into a relationship that benefits both of the parties greatly, and thus we are on good terms with each other. What do you have to offer us?" asked KT-11.