Big Brother
Grand Confessor
The Pilot slowly stood up, she was somewhat shocked at the sight of medics, as opposed to a strike team that was going to rush her. This could bode fortunate, they didn't know who she was or who she served, an alien ship caught in the crossfire.
She could play this to her advantage, so long as she was careful as to who knew what.
Slowly her hands went to the collar of her helmet, twisting the friction lock, and undoing the fasteners, this caused the helmet to hiss, as the pressure was equalized with the cargo bay, and the wider bay of the Solaris. Pushing up, she removed the helmet, exposing a woman with a sharp, angular face and pale skin, along with striking black hair that was rather frazzled, and done in a hasty ponytail. Her eyes were a grey-blue, almost like river stones, and her face lacked the blemishes and imperfections of an unaltered human.
She knew the quickest and most surefire way for them to discern her identity was for medics to poke about, this also carried the risk of cross contamination, she would refuse their aid as best she was able, playing at the facade that she was just another alien.
"I'm fine, thank you." She insisted, the thick Aerilonian accent garbling her words. subtly refusing their medical care, There was a brief hint of confusion in her eyes, at the fact that the room wasn't full of enemy soldiers. She only briefly glanced back to her crash chair, and then brought her gaze forward. There was a sense of urgency, she knew either a massive retaliatory strike would be imminent; or a strategic missile launch. And she did not want to be aboard Solaris when the entire star system went up into a hyper-nova, or the initial tricobalt missiles detonated.
---
Aboard the Eye of Arran, there was visible confusion among the crew, as the incoming voice data was parsed, translated using ancient alien texts from what few databases were salvaged from before The Collapse. The voice played in their minds, in their native language.
Captain Elson let the data flow into his mind, they had stumbled into an area not only inhabited by alien life, but strange spatial anomalies. This didn't make sense, as they had previously been exploring the reaches of the Karos Graveyard, salvaging ancient technology for repurposing. They couldn't have strayed far from their area of operation, such a thing was impossible given that conventional FTL was all but useless, and traversing hyperspace required either a massive Hyperspace core, or a gateway, the only safe routes through the Galaxy.
A galaxy that Captain Elson was certain had been laid barren since the Collapse.
And yet, there was life all around them, hundreds of individual contacts brimming with life signs, nothing made sense, and the Captain couldn't even formulate a response. They were scavengers, not diplomats. Their vessel was outfitted to defend against the brutal warp storms, and the occasional pirate raid and yet an entire fleet of alien vessels loomed before them.
The message came in on a radio signal, this too perplexed Elson as quantum communications had completely superseded classical subspace, and conventional radio transmissions, utilizing forms of entanglement, communication and data processing was instantaneous, regardless of distances.
His mind worked, in complete synergy with the other members of the crew, considerations, voices heard, decisions made in a fraction of a second, their consensus reached through high-speed communication via their cortical implants.
"They are extremely primitive, whoever these aliens are, it is likely they wouldn't comprehend any communication from us. Or have the equipment to receive or transmit." Bridge Officer Nabaaht explained, via his own cortical implant. "We have lost contact with fleet command."
"Impossible." Elson retorted. "No Spatial tears have ever been able to break our communications link before, these class three tears shouldn't inhibit anything."
Nabaaht shrugged slightly, and then returned to his console, formulating a reply.
A reply which was sent in the best way they could, using radio technology the ship wasn't really equipped to send or receive. It came as a powerful energy burst from the vessel. The data carried on the surge of energy that, on most conventional electrical systems would short out or overload, a radio transmission so powerful it acted as an EMP.
The EM pulse was so powerful, anything within five hundred thousand kilometers of the strange vessel would be completely fried. Those outside would likely experience massive power spikes, shield fluctuations, blown fuses, blown relays, and shorted computer circuitry. It was akin to someone taking a bullhorn to someone's ear, an un-modulated radio pulse that carried a powerful burst of data, in a language that was almost completely indecipherable, having evolved in total isolation. However the language had it's roots in Anquietas, which meant it could be translated.
"WE ARE KUSHAN, WE ARE SALVAGE, WE ARE FRIEND, PLEASE UNWEAPONS."
---
She could play this to her advantage, so long as she was careful as to who knew what.
Slowly her hands went to the collar of her helmet, twisting the friction lock, and undoing the fasteners, this caused the helmet to hiss, as the pressure was equalized with the cargo bay, and the wider bay of the Solaris. Pushing up, she removed the helmet, exposing a woman with a sharp, angular face and pale skin, along with striking black hair that was rather frazzled, and done in a hasty ponytail. Her eyes were a grey-blue, almost like river stones, and her face lacked the blemishes and imperfections of an unaltered human.
She knew the quickest and most surefire way for them to discern her identity was for medics to poke about, this also carried the risk of cross contamination, she would refuse their aid as best she was able, playing at the facade that she was just another alien.
"I'm fine, thank you." She insisted, the thick Aerilonian accent garbling her words. subtly refusing their medical care, There was a brief hint of confusion in her eyes, at the fact that the room wasn't full of enemy soldiers. She only briefly glanced back to her crash chair, and then brought her gaze forward. There was a sense of urgency, she knew either a massive retaliatory strike would be imminent; or a strategic missile launch. And she did not want to be aboard Solaris when the entire star system went up into a hyper-nova, or the initial tricobalt missiles detonated.
---
Aboard the Eye of Arran, there was visible confusion among the crew, as the incoming voice data was parsed, translated using ancient alien texts from what few databases were salvaged from before The Collapse. The voice played in their minds, in their native language.
Captain Elson let the data flow into his mind, they had stumbled into an area not only inhabited by alien life, but strange spatial anomalies. This didn't make sense, as they had previously been exploring the reaches of the Karos Graveyard, salvaging ancient technology for repurposing. They couldn't have strayed far from their area of operation, such a thing was impossible given that conventional FTL was all but useless, and traversing hyperspace required either a massive Hyperspace core, or a gateway, the only safe routes through the Galaxy.
A galaxy that Captain Elson was certain had been laid barren since the Collapse.
And yet, there was life all around them, hundreds of individual contacts brimming with life signs, nothing made sense, and the Captain couldn't even formulate a response. They were scavengers, not diplomats. Their vessel was outfitted to defend against the brutal warp storms, and the occasional pirate raid and yet an entire fleet of alien vessels loomed before them.
The message came in on a radio signal, this too perplexed Elson as quantum communications had completely superseded classical subspace, and conventional radio transmissions, utilizing forms of entanglement, communication and data processing was instantaneous, regardless of distances.
His mind worked, in complete synergy with the other members of the crew, considerations, voices heard, decisions made in a fraction of a second, their consensus reached through high-speed communication via their cortical implants.
"They are extremely primitive, whoever these aliens are, it is likely they wouldn't comprehend any communication from us. Or have the equipment to receive or transmit." Bridge Officer Nabaaht explained, via his own cortical implant. "We have lost contact with fleet command."
"Impossible." Elson retorted. "No Spatial tears have ever been able to break our communications link before, these class three tears shouldn't inhibit anything."
Nabaaht shrugged slightly, and then returned to his console, formulating a reply.
A reply which was sent in the best way they could, using radio technology the ship wasn't really equipped to send or receive. It came as a powerful energy burst from the vessel. The data carried on the surge of energy that, on most conventional electrical systems would short out or overload, a radio transmission so powerful it acted as an EMP.
The EM pulse was so powerful, anything within five hundred thousand kilometers of the strange vessel would be completely fried. Those outside would likely experience massive power spikes, shield fluctuations, blown fuses, blown relays, and shorted computer circuitry. It was akin to someone taking a bullhorn to someone's ear, an un-modulated radio pulse that carried a powerful burst of data, in a language that was almost completely indecipherable, having evolved in total isolation. However the language had it's roots in Anquietas, which meant it could be translated.
"WE ARE KUSHAN, WE ARE SALVAGE, WE ARE FRIEND, PLEASE UNWEAPONS."
---