In Case of Emergency... (Closed!)

[Sunset]

Closed!

The goal is to wrap up all the current pods and their contents by November 13th. That's right - Warlords of Draenor release date. It is very likely that I'll cut back on posting to 1-2 a day at that point and I don't want to hold people up for a month or so while I hole up behind my Death Knight. But...

Once I re-surface I plan on ReBooting this thread with a slightly different theme but much the same flavor and you're all invited!

OOC: First bits first. Why waste your time reading through to find out it's something you're not interested in?

I'm looking for new blood. Not allies, not enemies, just people interested in character role-play. The setup is simple: A Sunset spaceship has been hit, disabled, and destroyed. Escape pods from the ship are scattered all over. If you're interested in getting to know someone new just follow up with a post about where one of the escape pods ends up and we'll go from there. It could be your home world, an unknown world, picked up by one of your own passing ships, or even a random passing ship... Up to you. A reasonable level of detail would be good: Who, what, where, why, and how.

While Sunset is a FutureTech nation your nation doesn't have to be. We're explorers and landing in the middle of a Renaissance-Era nation peopled by Cyclops would be just as interesting as a visit to a high-tech marvel, possibly more-so.

The Escape Pods:
Who: Depends. Sunset has many different sentient species and I'll mirror how creative you are with how creative I am. A description of whatever/whoever picks up the pod would be useful.
What: A standard life raft design. A thick slab of armor plate that also works as a heat shield on top, hatch on one side with a mechanical lock that's clearly marked. fits three or four standard sized humanoids. All the electronics are fried, even the universal translator.
Where: Could be anywhere. A swamp down in Dagobah, a shining metropolis, a grungy freighter in deep space, a submarine deep under the sea.
Why: Not really needed but the reasons for picking up the escape pod might be interesting.
How: How did the pod get there is mostly wrapped up in 'Where'.

That's it. No sign-ups, no rules. I'm willing to roll with whatever if you are.

[Schadow]

Go see other worlds, they said. Get out there, live the dream. See new sights, new peoples …

Oh, he’d gone alright. And here he was, picking himself out of the tangle of people and assorted baggage that had resulted when their pod had landed. And by landed, he meant dropped through the atmosphere, and tumbled into wherever it was they were fortunate – or unfortunate enough to find themselves.

He wasn’t even sure who – or rather what – some of them were. There had been so many different, alien faces and figures on this trip. In fact, he still hadn’t figured out even a quarter of where some of them were from by the time all hell had broken loose, and the mad dash for the escape pods had begun.

Groans, and unintelligible phrases sounded from here and there. He wasn’t seeing a lot of blood. He wasn’t hearing any death-rattles or inhuman wailing. His backpack. It had been under his seat. The telltale strip of bright red ribbon tied to one of its straps was what drew his attention, as an oddly-shaped being lifted themselves up, and off the tan and black pack.

Yes, he realized he ought to help, but at the same time, they needed to see where they were at. And he appeared to be closest to the doorway. The viewport was covered in what looked like dirt, the outer layer showing a spider web of thin cracks along one side. There was an access panel he could reach, though the door itself was slightly above him and currently at an odd angle.

Jumping up, the young man caught hold of the lever, then used it to work his way up, bracing his feet against the pod’s wall. He turned the lever, and pushed, working the fingers of his other hand into the crack that formed as the seal broke and air rushed in to equalize the pressure.

Several voices raised in alarm, and he thought belatedly that perhaps waiting for some sort of confirmation might have been wise … but he’d had to get out of that relatively cramped space, with the strange faces and voices, the closeness of bodies and bags, the rising panic and air of fear.

Blinking in the filtered light, Keane Dixon took in the scene with a shaded gaze. Green, everywhere. The outside of the pod was covered in it, as well as deep, rich brown earth from where it had bounced and dug its way into the foliage and ground. There was a cacophony of sounds, though none of them overly familiar, nor of civilization. Birds and insects, he was certain of. And other things he wasn’t certain of at all. And an almost rhythmic rushing sound. Water? No, not a stream or river. It was deeper than that. The surf, perhaps. Distant, but present, off somewhere past the tangled green and broken branches of these oddly-shaped trees, thick with moss, and the broad-leafed plants.

Keane pulled himself further up, satisfied at least that he was breathing fine. It was warm. Humid, even. Off in one direction, there was a ragged furrow from their flight path, and a long trail of broken greenery. And past that, blue skies. He couldn’t really make out anything more than that from where he stood on the downed escape pod.

Others were stirring behind him, back in the pod. Questions, maybe. Concerns. Damned if he was sure even how to answer. They were alive, somewhere seemingly tropical. Past that …

“I hope this thing has a beacon,” he muttered, hopping down and taking in the warm scent of churned dirt and broken plant life.







(Hopefully that works as a starting point – if not, please let me know and I can add on or edit. This is a fun idea, thanks for putting it up!)

[Sunset]

OOC: It's perfect! Not what I was thinking but I said I'd roll with it and I shall! For everyone else, it's still open! More than one escape pod!

----Schadow

Sunlight flooded through the open hatch and slowly crept across Mycla's face until the darkness behind her eyes burned with light and she unconsciously turned her head. Her torso rolled and this was enough to bring her other limbs into conflict with something more uncomfortable than the crash couch she had been sprawled over. Her eyes half-opened and she looked around the tight space, the bright shaft of light now throwing everything inside into sharp contrast.

Another body, still sprawled out, but next to it an empty couch and a spray of dirt that had fallen from above. She looked up into the sunlight, blinked, and raised a slender hand to shield her eyes. It wasn't far but her body told her it was far enough and she looked away with a groan. Another person beside her. Who was it?

They were tugging at the harness that had held them secure against the couch but it appeared to be jammed, locked up tight in the resistance reels, and the buckle was clearly damaged with a good sliver of chromed metal showing between tongue and buckle. Mycla moved a hand to her own harness, testing the button and it parted with a click. Dragged by the re-tractor it slowly pulled away from her and she pushed herself up on one arm.

Who was it? She shook her head and looked again. Ikteten... Black bead on his uniform. A marine. The buckle parted with a snap, the tongue completely torn apart, and he pushed himself up into a crouch. Now he was looking down at Mycla and he looked her over, "Are you okay?"

She nodded and tried to follow him but it took her a bit more effort. One leg partially collapsed under her and he looked over again in alarm. "Are you sure?"

Another nod and the leg found it's place. Just bruising and the odd stance she'd had to take to get all four legs down. At least she hoped. He was already digging under the couch, grabbing the same red strap and coming up with a survival pack. As he rose he spotted the figure across from Mycla.

"They okay?"

She tried to turn but the odd geometry tripped her up again and she collapsed against an angled wall.

"I'll check," he volunteered, scrambling past her to kneel next to the form. A hand on the shoulder and then the neck. "She's alive, but she doesn't look good. Large cut across the forehead, another on the cheek, lots of blood."

Mycla didn't know a lot about human anatomy but that didn't sound good.

"We should get her out of here. Onto some flat ground. Can you boost me up?" Mycla pointed to the hatch. She could jump and reach the lip but her hooves just weren't designed for the same kind of acrobatics as the primate's were.

"Sure..."

He looked at her for a second, seemingly gauging her odd proportions, before putting his arms under her torso and pushing her up until she could get her arms over the lip of the hatch. Then it was tricky as he slowly walked under her, pushing her up on his powerful arms, until her body was almost through. She grabbed a handle beside the door and rolled, her slender legs instinctively flailing for a second before she completely rolled over and off the side of the pod into a pile of loose dirt.

"Oof!"

"Watch your head!"

One, two, three packages sailed up through the open hatch to land on the opposite side with a thud. More survival packs. She looked around. A young man, dressed in the clothes of a space-faring traveler, was standing not so far away looking over the crash site. He didn't look like one of the crew but her head was still hazy.

"A hand up?" Ikteten called from inside.

"Oh, yes," she pushed herself to her feet before kneeling on the front pair to extend a slender arm into the hatch.

It wasn't much but apparently more than enough for the much stronger soldier, who caught her hand with his own and carefully pushed himself out of the hatch with the other. The woman was secured around his shoulders - he'd pinned her uniform to his using the GEKO webbing that was sewn over the top in broad swatches - though she was still unconscious. Stepping down off the pod, he found a flat area and peeled her off into a cradle carry and then stretched her out on the ground.

"Hey!" Ikteten called out, "Hey you! You have any medical training?"

----

OOC: Mycla is a Centaur from the planet Breeze. Assuming Keane Dixon is a young adult male human, she likely comes up to just under his nose. She has the markings of a Chital, or Spotted Deer. Ikteten is an Enhanced Human, North African/Egyptian ancestry. Both are wearing SDF Uniforms though not the formal version.

[Moad]

"Captain, we have an unidentified object 3 km out at 130 by 190 degrees," the analyst announced. "It appears artificial, probably alien in origin."

And here I thought this trip would be boring. Captain Cordos Mord sat up a little straighter in his chair. "Run a comprehensive scan," he ordered.

"Already doing so." The Analyst leaned over his console as a rapid stream of figures ran across the screen. "Definitely alien. It doesn't match anything in our database." He punched something into the keypad with two long fingers. "Faint radiation trail. Possibly evidence of an explosion. No functioning electrical systems but..." The Analyst paused. "There are lifeforms inside."

The captain drummed his hand against the side of his chair as he often did when he was thinking. "Inform Admiral Rrla that we have a possible First Contact situation. Helm, take us in to a distance of 50 m and prepare to bring the object on board."

"Aye,sir." The navigator did not look up from her console but her pointed ears turned just slightly toward the captain. The ship accelerated smoothly forward until it drew level with the pod. "Tractor beam ready," the navigator reported. "Awaiting your order, captain."

"Do it." The captain rose from his chair. "Alert the science the department of our discovery and have a team meet me in hanger 1. Biohazard protocols in effect." Signalling for the Analyst to join him, Captain Mord exited the bridge.

Doctor was waiting in the hanger with five assistants in biosuits. Doctor was the head of the ship's science department. He had a name, but Mord's mouth couldn't even reproduce half the syllables, so he was just called Doctor. The pod sat in the middle of the hanger, surrounded by a containment field. "There seems to a hatch," Doctor reported. "We can get in. We're just waiting on your order."

Mord grinned. He had expected this routine scouting mission in the Outer Sector to be unbearably dull. Now he might go down in history as the discoverer of a new civilization. "Go ahead."

[Sunset]

OOC: To boldly go...

----Moad

The hatch opened smoothly to reveal a small, octagonal interior with four fore-shortened walls. The hatch was built into one of the long bulkheads and at each corner was a crash couch in a half-shell manner. Consoles and control panels were tucked away at the head of each of these, and there were shelves and storage spaces built underneath as well as much larger bays built into the walls between them. A projector of some kind was built into the center of the ceiling and under it was the remains of some kind of machine.

At first glimpse it seemed there were no survivors. Whatever had happened had left entirely too many limbs and organs and... Messy bits scattered around.

Then the heap of limbs that was scattered across one of the crash couches stirred. Eyes blinked and a row of flaps in the middle of what might be broadly defined as a head fluttered. For the moment that was the only reaction but attention had been drawn. What at first appeared to be some organs was a creature, about a meter in length, with a fleshy brown tube for a body and a mass of squid-like tentacles at one end. A pair of bumps at one end might have concealed eyes but if they were they remained firmly shut.

----

OOC: Kal-En-Venshos or 'Trilat' - Definitely doesn't speak Standard. The other one is a Tlokselo or 'Marsh Squid' and the pile of mechanical tentacles in the center looks like this except all collapsed.

[Moad]

The two assistants who had opened the pod leaped back in surprise. The junior of the two hissed involuntarily. "By the One, what is that?" gasped the Analyst.

"Whatever it is we have to assume that it is intelligent." Doctor's voice rose in pitch , as was common among his species when they got excited. He signaled for his assistants to step back out of the field. He lowered the helmet of his own biosuit and stepped in himself. Mord quickly set his computer headset to stream the images from the camera built in to Doctor's suit. Doctor slowly approached the pod, his arms raised to show he was unarmed. At two feet tall Doctor could barely see into the pod. He hoisted himself up into the door frame. "Hello, he said in his most soothing voice. I am," he let out a series of clicks and squeaks similar to a dolphin, "but most just call me Doctor. Can you understand anything I am saying?" He spoke in Standard Confederate, then repeated the question in Traditional Moad, Anghi, Mecce and Radofal.

OOC: Captain Mord is a blue skinned alien with black hair, about six feet tall. He is slightly broader and stockier than an ordinary human with four fingers instead of five. The Doctor and the Analyst are small, hairless creatures with slightly elongated necks jutting forward. They have three fingers on each hand and brilliant blue eyes. I have already implied that there are other species on board and I will describe them as they become relevant.

[Sunset]

----Moad

Liquid black eyes flicked open and the bifurcated head moved to look directly at the Doctor. Another flutter and an arm - or was it a leg - stretched out to touch one of the control panels. A second attempt and again nothing. It remained stubbornly dark.

Moving like a waterfall in reverse, the various arms and legs gathered themselves upward until the monster towered over the Doctor and filled nearly half the pod. Stretching a hand out, it pointed to a sunburst image painted on one wall and then to a blue, silver, and gold roundel on the opposite. These seemed to be symbols or flags, and it waited a moment to wait for confirmation or perhaps recognition. Then it began to speak.

It's voice was like oil, thick and viscous, with bubbles drifting to the surface to pop with sudden force. There was something ancient about it, something that tickled on the back of the memory like an old book containing the barest mention of an ancestor. Somehow it felt like the words were somehow bringing memories to the surface and the inky depths of it's eyes merely reinforced this notion as it continued.

Movement from one of the other couches finally broke it's dialog and it turned to watch as the fleshy tube with the mass of tentacles began to roll and then bunch up, until it pushed itself up into a vaguely sitting position. Or was it standing? Hard to tell. What had seemed to be eye bumps proved correct though as these flew open to reveal two remarkably pretty looking eyes with pink iris that stretched from lid to lid and a black slit of a pupil that remained nearly a slit even in the darkness of the pod.

----

OOC: The language of a Trilat is old. Very old. We dug one out of the ice on a world named Rime and that one was dated to 'Unfathomable Ages'. They are mildly psychic, but only directly between their own kind. Their language seems to stir something forgotten in a lot of races.

[Moad]

The Doctor gestured to the two flags in the pod, then to the flag on the front of his suit, a green circle on black. "Moad," he said. Then, demonstrating the remarkable linguistic skills of his people, he repeated the Trilat's words back to it in a passable facsimile of its own accent.

Very slowly, so there could be no misunderstanding of his intentions, the Doctor lowered himself into the pod. Two of his assistants moved in toward the pod, but he gestured for them to keep their distance. He knew that the most dangerous thing that could happen right now was for their guests to misinterpret an innocent action as threatening.

Doctor sidled along the wall until he reached the control panel. He looked to the Trilat, his shocking blue eyes meeting the inky black ones. Once he was certain that the creature was not about to attack he turned to the panel. "Light," he said as he lit he activated a small lamp on his suit in order to examine the it.

As this was happening the Analyst began running everything said and done through the computer's language programs, hoping it might find some pattern in the strangers' speech that they had missed.

[Sunset]

----Moad

From the outside the panel was a flat slate of black glass. Tapping it or touching it, no matter how hard or how often, did very little. After a moment of allowing the Doctor to fiddle with it, the Trilat reached over and flipped the catch on a door below it. With the light shining on it the cause of the malfunction was clear. Black carbon scoring was everywhere with nearly every junction showing a ring or spray that indicated arcing electricity. Whatever had done the damage had to have been intense; the system looked extremely robust.

While he continued to poke, the Trilat continued to speak. The computer seemed to like it as it was rapidly spitting out an 'answer'. The trilat was repeating a simple mathematical formula. One, one plus one is two, one plus two is three, and so on. Once it had reached base ten it repeated the whole sequence. Then it started the pointing game. Couch, flag, light, hatch, and so on. It would say something, point, wait, and say it again.

Across the pod the Marsh Squid slid down off the couch and began to look around. It was obviously looking for something, sliding under various places and running it's tentacles into dark spaces in search of something. When a tentacle emerged with an odd-shaped object the ring of tentacles pulsed and it's eyes blinked and the fleshy mouth almost seemed to smile.

The object was long and thin with one flaring end and the other narrow with a thicker bulb about a third of the way down it's length. There were a number of holes along the remaining two-thirds and it fingered these with several tendrils before sliding the object into a hidden orifice between it's tentacles. It took a deep breath, the length of the fleshy brown tube swelling, and then the pod began to fill with music. The thin reedy sound of a recorder or wooden flute trilled up and down and the little creature seemed much more at ease.

Whulumping across the floor it made it's way over to the pile of something in the middle of the pod and began to poke at it with a pair of tentacles. There wasn't any response but it seemed to be trying to draw attention to the pile.

----

OOC: Want to go faster? Or just talk? irc.gamesurge.net, #nationstates. Applies to anyone who's interested as well

[Moad]

OOC: I'm okay with our current pace.

Doctor saw what the Marsh Squid was doing and hurried over to the pile as fast as his stubby legs would carry him. He knelt down across from the squid and examined the pile of what he thought had been machine parts. "Bring me an electromagnetic resonance scanner," he called to his assistants.

The EMR scanner was a foot long wand with a metal coil around it. A display screen was set into the handle. The Doctor held the scanner two handed and ran it over the pile. Nothing appeared to happen but a stream of data ran across the display screen. The Doctor frowned and made an adjustment to the scanner. The display changed to a black and white image of the pile's interior. Each layer was translucent allowing those below to be seen. Some parts were darker and others lighter depending on their composition. Organic components (assuming such are present) appeared black.

OOC: The EMR scanner uses a weak electromagnetic field to identify the composition, quantity, location and condition of metallic elements and alloys. It can also detect non-metallic substances but can give no information about them.

[Sunset]

----Moad

Music trilled as the Squid watched the Doctor work, occasionally peeking over his shoulder to see what the scanner saw.

What seemed to be a disconnected jumble of parts was, in fact, a connected jumble of parts. What appeared to be tubing were some kind of locomotive pseudo-pods that would form a tripod if properly extended. Another pair ended in a split that would form a three-fingered hand, and the stalk at the top appeared to house a weapon of some kind. Numerous sensors studded the lower face of the curved housing and it was inside this that the most interesting piece was seen, or not seen as it were.

A dark mass, definitely metal but heavily shielded, sat in the middle of the main housing just above a slew ring that would allow the whole to rotate completely. A particularly heavy looking connection led from the mass to all of the other components. Even without direct observation this was heavily damaged and appeared to be fused. At an easy guess the mass, which was somewhat almond-shaped, appeared to be the thing's central processor. There was also some kind of chute or transfer mechanism that seemed to allow direct access to the mass or allowed it to move to the surface of the housing.

The translator was having some success as well. It was quite possible that the Trilat had done this before, or had some training in it, as the system's language profile was rapidly evolving. Most of it's language seemed to be multi-syllabic words that created complex meanings out of a single word by using concept 'syllables' rather than having a single meaning for a single word. At their base the syllables could be used as words though this wasn't very efficient for anything other than a one or two word reply.

It was also picking something up from the music as well, though this wasn't perhaps intentional. Certain sequences were being repeated, though they differed in pitch and length, and these seemed to indicate the emotional state of the performer.

[Schadow]

Perhaps it was still a bit of shock that had him dazedly looking around, unsure really of what to do. That and he’d been near terrified of being trapped in that pod with things and people so foreign to him. Not that he was a racist … speciest … whatever you called it. It was just all so damned strange.

Medical? What?

Keane turned around, putting a hand up to shield his eyes and better see who it was talking to him. “I … no, not so much. I mean, common sense bits I suppose, but … Is someone hurt? I didn’t think there was anything serious. I mean, I didn’t … Sorry, Jesus man. I just had to get out of there,” he said, walking back over to the pod, frowning apologetically. His dark brown hair was tousled and his complexion a bit pale. It looked as though he might have been wearing a hat at one point, and it was clear he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days.

Bog-standard human as such things went, not that he’d imagined there might be nearly so much diversity as appeared to exist before he started out on his ‘adventure of discovery’. Joke was on him there, and here, given who some of his companions appeared to be.

One was straight out of a fairy tale, at least where he came from. Only small. Delicate. And not with the usual markings one might associated with an equine equivalent. The man seemed recognizable enough at first glance, and he took in the uniforms with some degree of relief.

“Oi, thank god for you two at least. Unis and all, then? I don’t suppose you’ve contact with folks as could get us up and out of here? Need some help down?” Hazel eyes read sincere enough, if still more than a little confused.

[Sunset]

----Schadow

Ikteten looked from Keane over to Mycla and shook his head before looking back down to the woman stretched out on the ground.

"Looks like he's still shook up," he murmured, opening one of the packs and pulling out a small package which in turn rapidly became a large survival blanket in the same dark gray as the majority of their uniforms.

"Why don't you and Mycla take a look around?" He said in a louder voice. It seemed to be more of an order than a suggestion. "Get the lay of the land and see what we've got to survive on?"

The cervitaur nodded and began to pick her careful way through the loam to the young man's side.

"Wait, your bag." Ikteten pointed to one of the packs on the ground. "Take one with you, just in case." He pulled open a pouch on the side of his own open bag and pulled out a large knife in a sheath. This he stuck to the black portion of his uniform belt so that it was within easy reach. "Could be wild animals, or wild people."

That was the Marine in him talking, but as Mycla retrieved her bag and pulled out the suggested weapon, Keane could see that the whole was covered in what could be various useful things. Bits of script in a dozen different languages that came down to 'Hello, we need help,' a mirror, flint... Almost a little survival pouch in itself.

"You want one?" Mycla offered another from further inside the pack. "Just in case?"

"Try to take the best survey you can," Ikteten suggested, "My implants are out," Mycla nodded agreement with this, "And they were hardened, so I'm guessing the beacon is out too. I'll look into it when I get her comfortable but she's first priority. Anything you find at all, anything that might be useful."

----

OOC: For Moad! The Marsh Squid

[Moad]

"It is some sort of machine," Doctor reported to Captain Mord. "I think it's an automaton although how advanced I can't say. By the size of the processor I would guess very. The damage is pretty serious but I think we might be able to get it working again." The Doctor made a series of further adjustments the EMR, focusing the scan on the fused connection. A complex stream of data appeared over the image. It was all very impressive but the Doctor frowned and shook his head.

He uttered a voice command to his headset computer and it immediately synced with the scanner. Although he could have shut the scanner off now and displayed the data directly on the headset screen, he kept it on for the benefit of the Marsh Squid. "Which of these materials do we possess or have the ability to synthesize?" he asked the computer. After a moment the computer informed him that most, but not all, of the materials in the fused connection were present on the ship. He called up a list of materials with similar properties to those missing. As he examined the list his frown became even more pronounced. "Too many variables."

"We have basic translation," the Analyst announced. "I'm loading the program to your headset now."

Doctor snapped out of his reverie and turned to the Trilat. He stood there for several minutes muttering as he tried to find a phrase that could be translated. At first he was trying simple sentences, then he changed to brief phrases and finally just tried to string words together. Each time the computer informed him that translation was impossible. He twittered to himself, frustruatedly, in his own strange language.Then inspiration struck him. He pointed to the damaged machine and spoke one word "Alive?"

[Sunset]

----Moab

"Yes." That reply was easy to understand but then the Trilat repeated 'Alive' and then 'Alive' plus another permutation that seemed to mean 'Not Real', 'Fake', or possibly 'Artificial'.

As things seemed to be moving along peacefully, it reached under one of the crash couches and pulled out a pack. It was a basic backpack, squared off to fit in the space provided, with a number of external pouches and pockets as well as the single large container. It began to pull the contents of the bag out and hand them, one by one, through the hatch to the Analyst. These were all various bits and pieces of a survival kits and contained everything from blankets to rations, all packed away in neat little containers that were, most importantly, labelled in a single unified language.

A language it couldn't speak without major surgical modification or a cybernetic implant, but it could read it and more importantly write it.

[Moad]

The Analyst began entering the labels on the supplies into the computer. The computer proved far more responsive to this standardized language than anything else it had heard thus far. Before even half of the supplies had been registered it had already compiled most of an alphabet and even estimated the sounds that many of the letters represented. By the time the Analyst was done it could translate nouns with a 5% accuracy. This might not seem impressive to most but the Analyst knew how impressive it was given the limited information.

He called for a large computer pad (think ipad) and a stylus. He calibrated it so that a person could take pictures and label them with the stylus. The computer would then use the labels for translation. He demonstrated how it worked for the Trilat and handed it to him. "More," he said.

At the same time the Doctor went back to the machine and opened the hatch. He reached in with the scanner for a closer examination of the fused connection. This time he seemed more pleased with what the scanner told him. "Show me a list of similar components used by the Space Corps. The computer complied with a list of over 200 components. "Refine search. Limit to components compatible with the dimensions of the damaged system which can be produced on this ship." This time only twenty-five components were on the list. Doctor scrolled through them until he found one he liked. "That should work temporarily at least. Manufacture it. Priority one."

A message appeared on the display: Component will be ready in 30 minutes.

[Sunset]

----Moad

Watching over the Doctor's shoulder, the Marsh Squid understood a bit of what the Doctor was trying to do. But replacing the connections wouldn't be enough. The simplest way would be to remove the core and plug it into an existing system that would satisfy the needs and... A brain surge! But how to get the Doctor to understand? Surging across the deck the little Tlokselo opened one of the large storage compartments that lined the inside of the pod, which in turn revealed several shelves of various pieces of equipment in racks.

There were pistols, rifles, and other decidedly military items as well as... Hand scanners! A tentacle grabbed one and the Tlokselo squicked back over to put it down next to the Doctor and the collapsed machine. Searched around on the side of the meter-tall unit, it found a little hatch that likely would have been used to plug in a power cable. Flipping this open, it played a series of notes that very much sounded like 'Hey you! Hey you!' to get his attention. On the inside of the hatch was engraved a series of numbers and letters in a style that seemed very informational.

Pointing to the scanner and then to the information on the panel, the Marsh Squid then pantomimed plugging the scanner into the port and then pointed to the Doctor's working scanner. The core would need both power and sensory input and jury-rigging the working scanner to the core would give it both. That left the question of how to express itself, but... Aha!

Another squicking gallop over to the Trilat and the Tlokselo was tugging on one leg. It had been going through the presented database as fast as it could, writing down names and building up a vocabulary, but it turned it's attention to the squid who pointed at the tablet. Leading it over, it laid the tablet down next to the scanner. Power, sensory input, and expression!

[Moad]

It took the Doctor a moment to grasp what the Tlokselo wanted. When he did manage to work it out he nodded his understanding and called for tools. Linking the tablet and the scanner was easy as both were designed for wireless communication. With the aid of the computer he reprogrammed them for their new purpose. He did not think it wise for the tablet to interface directly with the ship's computer until communication had been established. He kept the translation program though and activated audio and video recording functions.

The was the easy part. Linking the scanner to a piece of alien technology was harder. Fortunately the core's outlet was similar in style to one used during the Imperial Wars and Doctor had an adapter on hand. Once the physical link was established it still took several minutes for the system to adapt to the new input. Power output fluctuated wildly and the displays were replaced with lines of code. Then, very suddenly, the displays came back. A message appeared on the tablet: Link established.

[Sunset]

Perfect! The Tlokselo warbled happily. The connector between the Core and the outside plug would need to be replaced but that was already on the way. With some time to kill, the Marsh Squid slithered up the Trilat's web of limbs and began to sing along as it went through more pictures.

Hooking up the connector was a whole other story though. Taking the thing's chassis apart involved ejecting the Core, which proved to be something of a foreshortened almond shape covered in a durable metal shell with it's own large connector plug at the large end. Once it was out, a ring at the back had to be turned which seemed to disengage the slew ring that allowed the torso to rotate. Once inside the internals were elegant and simple, with each system being it's own distinct component that could be easily removed. The external charging port ran straight to the battery pack, which was nestled under the core, but this was easily bypassed for a straight connection between the external port and the Core's cradle.

With the whole opened it was obvious that the jury-rigged system would have to be replaced by a whole new chassis. Damage, both light and heavy, was obvious on all the components. How the Core - if the Core - had survived whatever had done this was an interesting question.

[Moad]

With little else to do but wait the Doctor took a seat on one of the couches and began to fill out reports. Discovering a new species was in fact a bureaucratic nightmare. The circumstances of first contact had to be documented extensively for posterity. The head of the ship's research team was responsible for coordinating it all. His focus, however, was on the machine. He knew the chassis would have to be replaced but he was not sure if he could do it on a scouting vessel. Replacing one connection was one thing. Reproducing complex machinery was quite another. It was doable with the proper tools, but this ship had only standard issue equipment on board. Thus he compiled all his findings and had the computer send them to the nearest outpost for extensive analysis. The outpost was five standard days away. He hoped his temporary measures would hold until then.

Meanwhile the Analyst and Captain Mord were going over an hours worth of bioscans of the pod. With no signs of foreign microbial life Mord saw fit to cancel the Biohazard Protocol and lower the containment field. Now he stepped into the pod himself to meet his guests for the first time. He raised an open palm to them in the traditional greeting of his people and said "Hello, I am Captain Mord."

OOC: I am assuming that Mord's words will be translated into understandable written language on the tablet.

[Sunset]

----Moad

"I am Captain Vu'evere," The trilat replied. "And this is Lieutenant Purenira," it gestured to the Tlokselo. "Both of the late Sunset Defense Forces starship Wright Brothers."

The Marsh Squid whistled and nodded in greeting and then issued a much longer song while pointing to the machine on the ground and to the various pieces of jury-rigged equipment.

"It seems I am mistaken," Vu'evere corrected itself, "This unit may house the artificial intelligence portion of the Wright Brothers. Any assistance you can render in restoring it to consciousness would be appreciated."

[Smoya]

Flubert, Smoya
"Mommy! Daddy! A rocket ship!" yelled a little boy. A little girl followed behind her. She screamed, "Mommy!"

A bright light in the sky - most likely an asteroid - broke up in Earth's atmosphere. It burned like a wildfire in the sky.

Suddenly two parents ran outside. "That's not a shooting star," spit out the dad. He saw a large boom in the distance. It looked like a small mushroom cloud.

"Call the cops! We're under attack!" yelled the dad. The children began crying, and the dad carried them into the house. The mom picked up her cell phone inside and dialed 911. "What is your emergency?" said a female voice as the operator. "Smoya - specifically the small, suburban town of Flubert with a population of about 100,000 - is under attack. A large boom, I mean, uh, my husband saw an explosion in the distance on Butterfield Road. Please investigate," she said, breathless.

Suddenly, police cars rushed to the site of impact. Military jets and tanks followed behind.

The nuclear alarm went off, alarming the city. The entire city panicked, and across the news, there was news of an impact on Flubert - possibly an attack.

At the site, a tall man of 6'3 with black boots walked up. He was the chief of the local Flubert Police Depot.

"Step back!" he yelled, walking up to the hole. A large, metallic machine stood in the way. "What the heck..." he whispered. Suddenly, the machine began to move. The police, small group if marines, and 2 tanks backed off and readied their weapons...

Smoya is an MT nation located in the MT world of NationStates. We are regarded as a superpower for the world, and has minimal space contact. We have 1 planet, Athia, fully colonized by us. Besides that, we mainly focus on international politics, rather than space. Think of us as the US, only more advanced and has more space intelligence.

This looks fun!

[Sunset]

----Smoya

The hatch cracked and opened barely a crack before slamming shut again. Minutes passed and then it began to open again. Slowly it swung wide, an arm that looked surprisingly normal and clad in some kind of black and gray uniform pushing it open, until it hit the side of the pod with a metallic clang. A figure emerged, human and dressed in some kind of uniform, with his hands raised to his shoulders.

"Nous venons en paix," he repeated several times.

[Smoya]

"Alien," whispered the chief. Smoya has only had minimal contact with foreign advanced species. One of them, the Vaxon Empire, became an ally of Smoya. Another foreign species, the Eshams, were hostile and were destroyed by Smoya as a young nation. Would this alien race become a Vaxon Empire or follow the path of the Eshams?

All of the soldiers and police readied their weapons and aimed. "His hands are up, wait!" yelled the chief. "I want this thing transported to the Smoyan National Space and Research Center, now!" he yelled. Immidiately, men with gloves wearing thick armor walked up to this creature, and carried it into a truck.

The chief walked to a fellow marine. "Your general will now be in control of this. Report this to the president, the governor, and General Prados."

The man nodded. He walked off, gave an order, and soon every marine got in their truck. The police drove away, while some stayed and examined the ship. Reporters were blocked from accessing the area.

In the truck...
The humvee drove away, carrying this creature. Three marines sat in the back, all with laser rifles.

"So, who are you?" One asked. The others waited for the creature's response, if it even responded at all.

[Sunset]

----Smoya

"Parlez-vous français?" The man replied. Without a response he simply sat back and began to finger a beaded necklace with a small cross on it.

----

The escape pod was a semi-octagonal unit with four fore-shortened walls. It had landed on a heavy plate that seemed to be some kind of a heat shield, and there were a quartet of rockets positioned all around the outside of the craft. The inside of the craft had four crash couches positioned at the shortened walls, and under these were various storage compartments. Display panels, all fried, circled the head of each couch and there were more storage racks on the walls. Aside from the man, there didn't seem to be any other occupants.

In the middle of the pod's open deck there was a pallet full of various samples that had been hastily anchored. Several of the containers had broken open during the crash and now bits of dirt and various plants littered the floor of the pod. One of these, a pretty pink flower with five points, blew across the floor as a gust of wind caught it and drifted on the wind for a moment before slipping out the door.