A small angry planet [IC/OPEN!]

[Labstoska]

A small angry planet

On the outskirts of a rapidly moving and rather Solar system there was at first nothing, an utterly perfect void of pure nothingness. Then this void of nothingness began to convulse, to tear itself to shreds as forces that would have given Einstein a seizure tore a hole in reality and from this great vortex, vessels came that were quite unlike anything that this system had ever witnessed, just as soon as these vessels emerged from their crime against modern physics, more vortexes opened and out of them came yet more ships, each batch of ships containing a myriad of unusual species many of which would cause a couple of farmers to scream in the faces of scientists the words "I told you so!". This unusual assortment of creatures had come to this insignificant solar system searching for one resource that has so far driven each of their species to near extinction. Upon one of the planets orbiting this insignificant star is a race of (debatably) evolved apes who happen to live on the same planet where the vast horde alien invaders believe there to be an extremely precious resource .

On the small green and blue world where all this highly valuable element is currently located , the devices constructed by the inquisitive apes are beginning to go quite mad with each of them showing extraordinary and impossible pieces of data although despite the impossibility of the data these machines are showing all indicated that something as happening on the outer fringes of the solar system and that large strange objects are somehow appearing out of nowhere, upon hearing these strange reports the leaders of the world focused their telescopes upon the outer solar system and saw the monstrous alien ships and knew that the age long question of weather or not they were alone in the universe had finally been answered . Outwardly the leaders of these apes say to their people about peace and cooperation while in shady rooms they start to organise a resistance to these alien threats. So a great war shall now engulf this system, hopefully they don't all wipe each other out that would rather boring.

OCC

[Yekrenia]

Petty Admiral Luis Amantius II
Lansa Blanca Class Cruiser - (NLD Fidil d’Papulus)
Originally En-Route back home

Inside the once peaceful space filled with a mix of a dark abyss and the bright wonder of the stars, there came the streaking lights of warp speed coming from 150 ships. The warp drive on the flagship, NLD Fidil d’Papulus, was at cruising speed, indicated by the faint soft warp trail forming behind its midsection, giving the ship a gentle cruise through the stars. The rest of the 149 ships followed suit; however, that was only because everyone was weary and looking to go home after exploring the stars for a decade.

On board the midsection section of Fidil d’Papulus, Petty Admiral Luis Amantius II, whom was having a mug of hot black tea, was in his office sifting through the last of his paperwork in preparation for a several thousand page long report of his fleet’s expedition. Of course, that kind of report was going on a computer given its length, it was going through the bueraucracy and further paperwork that was going to only make Luis doubt how governments were able to function in the first place. The 2.5km long Lansa Cruiser Clas Cruiser that he calls as his flagship was making headway through a shortcut that one of his captains mapped out, which where the fleet was heading in order to go home.

Admiral Luis’ silence was interrupted by the appearance of one of the ship’s onboard AIs, Paris. While only an intelligent individualistic AI to a minimalist, Paris was a male figure that wore a blue flight jumpsuit and black work boots, added on top of his distinctive Pallidan pointed ears and green skin. He had just showed up on display on Luis’ holographic phone situated on his desk, not happy yet not angry as he subsequently reported to Petty Admiral Luis Amantius II at work, “Admiral?”

"What's the matter, Paris?" Luis asked while keeping his attention at the last of his paperwork.

“Engineering's reporting a really big fluctuation in our Warp Drive. They're saying that we should drop out of warp speed immediately if we don't want the entire ship being smashed by a gravitic vortex.”

“What about the other ships?” Luis sternly questioned as he broke his attention from his work and stood up from his office chair, “That leaves this flagship stranded.”

“Fidil d’Papulus is not the only one, sir.” Another AI displayed from his holographic phone, another male of the same clothing and make like Paris, named May, “A quarter of the fleet are reporting similar problems and are considering an emergency stop.”

“Do it.” Luis murmured. In a moment, Fidil d’Papulus shuddered to a stop and left warp speed, leaving the other ships to remain on course except for a dozen other ships stopping behind Fidil d’Papulus. The rest of the fleet kept speeding away in warp speed on their way home; however, it wasn’t long until the remaining 122 ships turned around and came back in about fifteen minutes.

But prior to their return, Luis had many questions to ask, especially considering the cause of shutting down the Warp Drive, “Paris, May, get the three other AIs on this ship together and start running diagnosis, I’m heading for the bridge to check on Captain Paula.”

“Yes sir.” Paris and May said in unison before they disappeared from holographic display; however, just as Luis grabbed his phone and exited his office, Paris had returned, this time on Luis’ HUD earphones, “Admiral, we have a situation on the bridge. There’s... oh my god, what am I looking at?”

“What’s going on?”

“You won't believe this, but we found another habitable planet. Want me to bring it on display?”

“Negative. There’s no sense in showing me if I’m going to the bridge anyway.”

“As you wish.”

“In the mean time, prepare for a surface scan, I want to know if there's life here.” Luis commanded otherwise, “Where are we?”

“Approximately 271 lightyears away from home. We're still in uncharted territory, and I'm reading a sprawling life of technology on this planet.”

“Anything specific? (Any of the tech that can be found in the databases?)”

“Nope.”

“Then keep looking.” Luis ordered as he saw the bridge up ahead in the hall, “I’m on my way to the bridge.”

“I’ll be back then, sir.” Paris then promptly disappeared as Luis entered the bridge, only to find the crew and Captain Paula looking at the planet in mind on screen.

A beautiful, earth-like world lay in front of them, orbited by a single grey moon. A bright orange star lay in the distance, presumably the Planet's sun, along with the scanners indicating that there are hundreds of satellites and probes orbiting the planet as well. Whatever this planet, it has a name that only its inhabitants only knew, it’s name was Earth...

[Yymea]

It was very pretty.

A ball, not quite perfect, with vast, blue oceans, and oddly shaped continents. The mountains were its favourite, tiny bumps in the surface of the planet. Many were covered by white snow, and it couldn't help but shift his gaze from one to another. It felt great.
Dnye floated slowly forward, not willing to waste precious fuel just yet. It fawned over the new world from the eyes of its exploration vessel, a hastily assembled junkyard ship that could do nothing but what it was built for, watch.

And it did.
Dnye was in doubt. What species was the dominant one on this planet? It juggled four options. The first, its personal favourite, were small, many legged creatures that burrowed in underground nests that could span gigantic distances. Then came the self styled, 'Humans', bipedal creatures, sometimes with hair, sometimes without, that built large nests too, but on the surface, and using complex engineering techniques. The other two It only thought of because of their massive intelligence in comparison to the other two, more dull species. These were a water animal with a hole on its head and a large snout, and another water animal, this one with many legs, Dnye couldn't be bothered counting them, and a nice, large head.

Finally, Dnye came to a decision. The vessel contained a short message through printed images, explaining the perils of Dnye, and what It wanted. It set the course for the ship to release the contents in the middle of an ant colony in the tip of the thinner of the three continents, where it almost met with the icy, barren continent. The risk Dnye took was calculated, but man, was he bad at math. Instead of landing where planned, the container crashed in a small human town in western Sweden, killing a cow and three sheep, the sheep died of shock, as they aren't the brightest.

A confused farmer then opened a casket with a series of hiperrealistic computer generated images of the life of a strange, alien creature, its misfortunes and triumphs, and finally, a request and a warning. It wants to live with you, but it doesn't mind living without you. The police would come soon.

[Republic of the Cristo]

Propta Nuclear bunker, USSR, somewhere in the Urals mountains

The Propta nuclear bunker was the final refugee of the Politburo in the event of total nuclear war a foreign power. Built under a mountain and then surrounded by millions of tons of reinforced concrete, the bunker was made to withstand a direct nuclear strike. For it's current occupants however, this only provided a fleeting sense of security.

Ivan Sokolov, General-Secretary of the Soviet Union, was seated in the executive's panic room, surrounded by almost two dozen body guards, the entirety of the politburo, a dozen military commanders, and just as many scientists. The room was cramped, the air was stuffy, every one was broken out into cold sweat, and there are aliens in the sky. Sokolov was given some space from the rest of the room's inhabitants; he was seated behind his own personal desk near the back of the room - still flanked on either side by security though. He folded his hands together and breathed slowly. His large oval like face and Asiatic complexion made his demeanor look stern and serious in most situations, regardless of subject matter. Now however, his external grimace matched his internal dread. He had been informed of the situation during the flight from Moscow.

In his cabin, still surrounded by a dozen body guards no less, a nervous and ticking air force captain relayed to him the news of the so called, extra-terrestrials. " 3 hours ago, the - Shklovsky observatory noticed numerous light distortions about - 3 - 340,000 miles from the Earth. A thermal radiation scan revealed nearly 100 and 51 UFO's have appeared in that part of space in less than the last 12 hours - perhaps instantaneously if you will. " Seated at the foot of his bed, Sokolov furrowed his brow in utter astonishment. " These UFO's, do we know anything of their origin? What are they? A meteor shower? Martians? Anything at all? "

The captain stood still, his moment of silence seemed deafening to every man in the room. " We don't know, sir. These UFO's don't appear to be meteor's - they've hardly moved in patterns which resemble typical meteor movement. Th-thermal scans also reveal that... the UFO's tend to posses oblong and unnatural shapes. One of the other UFO's did not resemble the other's though. It appears separated from the rest, and looks to be different in general shape. This UFO actually sent something unknown out from it's main body about an hour ago. We believe it has landed somewhere in western Sweden. Other than that... we have recieved no transmissions from the UFO's. "

The debrief on the plane had instilled a worry into Soklov which he had not felt since his time as a soldier in Afghanistan. Here, now, buried under a mountain of concrete and steel, he held within his hands perhaps the only hope for human survival. He would act. In a low but loud voice he cut through the silence of the panic room. " Beria, " A hook nosed man in his early 60's, seated upon one of the room's few couches perked up as he was being referred to. Anton Beria, the CEO of Roscosmos, chief administrator of the GPS system and all state observatories, was the second most important man in the room at the moment. " Have any new developments come about in the last 2 hours? " Beria stood up and brushed down the front of his suit before clearing his throat, " Um... No, comrade secretary. I have ordered for every observatory under my jurisdiction to now focus on the identified UFO's, and have diverted 20% of our satellites to their observation. We still have no more new understanding of them... sir. " Sokolov didn't blink as he looked at the man, and then back down at his folded hands across the desk.

" As soon as this meeting is over, you will divert 50% of our satellite fleet towards outward observation - and look for any further appearing UFO's. "

Beria nodded with a slight bow, " Yes comrade secretary. " With a nod from Sokolov, Beria seated himself back down onto the coach.

" Tchaikovsky, Gagarin, " Near the back of the room, close to the door, two uniformed men stood forward away from the rest of the group and held their hands in front of them to show attention. The head of Strategic rocket forces, and the Air Force respectively.

" At what state of military readiness are we currently in? "

Gagarin would look to Tchaikovsky and begin speaking, " Squadrons have been deployed all over the Warsaw pact. We are patrolling over major cities as well as important government, military, and industrial centers. " Beria looked pleadingly towards Gagarin.

" And scientific installations. Radar is monitoring every single inch of the sky for any intrusions. "

Tchaikovsky began his part now. " Our rocket forces are at complete readiness. I have diverted half of our current nuclear and non-nuclear arsenal towards the group of UFO's. "

A scientist from the corner raised a finger into the air in protest. " Excuse, sir, but, we don't exactly what effect nuclear weapons will have on these UFO's. " Tchaikovsky cast a repugnant look towards the scientist.

" It's all that we have right now. " The scientist held his tongue, before returning back silently to his corner.

Sokolov cracked his neck with anxiety, an action which made a few men in the room cringe before politely looking away. " Comrade Ivanov, " Pascal Ivanov,Chairman of the communications committee, was in charge of monitoring and maintaining all civilian communications infrastructure within the Soviet Union - this included things like the internet, the press, and media. Ivanov himself had risen up from one of the coaches placed at the center of the room. He being a more portly man, seemed especially miserable in the cramped conditions.

" Is the public aware of the UFO presence yet? Are any other foreign powers aware? " Ivanov pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabbed at his forehead as he spoke. " Some domestic forums online have brought up the anomaly. We have been monitoring them closely, but right now it just looks like they are making observations instead of drawing any concrete conclusions. The media has been kept under strict silence about the matter. "

He put his handkerchief back into his breast pocket before continuing. " No other foreign power has made this news aware to their citizens yet - though undoubtedly most are already aware. "

Sokolov, still attempting to alleviate his stress, cracked the knuckles on one of his hands. " I don't suppose that there is any way to conceal their presence from the public now is there? "

Ivanov gave a polite bow as he spoke, " I should defer to director. Krupp on this subject matter. " Near the back of the room, next to air marshal Gagarin, came forward a small man with thinning blond hair and wire frame glasses. Director Krupp, an East German national working for the Soviet Air Force, was among the highest ranking administrators in the Soviet GPS program.

" Comrade secretary, " he began in his thick German accent, " This would be impossible to conceal. Anyone with a decent telescope is going to notice that some stars are missing. Not to mention, though we may be silent, other nations might not be so cautious. I and comrade Ivanov both agree that it would be best that we convey this information to the public now while we still can control the situation. "

Ivanov nodded in agreement with the director's words. Another loud crack from the general-secretary's knuckles brought on the turning of more heads from the rooms more squeamish members. " That... is an insightful opinion director. I keep that into consideration as I prepare a public address. Tupolev! "

The secretary's call brought forth the Grand Marshal of the Army, Michael Tupolev. " As soon as this meeting ends, place every city under indefinite Martial Law. Set martial readiness for our overseas troops and domestic forces to Defcon 2. "

At the utterance of Defcon 2 a silent shudder went through each military man there, who knew that the command meant being only one step away from total nuclear war. A deathly silence overtook the room as Sokolov slowly rose from his seat. He was a large man, and coupled with his perpetually scowling face he was an intimidating man - both worked oft work in his favor when speaking to his comrades ( and likewise his enemies ), and he now used both to try and throttle an answer from these scared men of the Soviet Union.

" Comrades... assuming that... this is an... extra-terrestrial force. What should our next course of action be? " Suddenly, every baited breath in the room seemed to be thunderously loud. A kind of silence that seemed to painfully plunge into each and every man's ears like drill. To speak seemed impossible, like lions before Daniel their mouths were held shut.

" Signal them. " With those two small words, Beria had shattered the silent spell over the room. He sat upon the coach, not rising, only starring forwards towards the coffee table laid down in front of him. " If it really is... aliens, who have managed to travel into our solar system in less than 3 hours, completely undetected, then they already know that we are here. Trying to hide would be pointless. " He looked up from the coffee table to see that every single man in the room was looking intently at him.

" While we still can, we should make contact on our own terms. "

A few more moments of baited silence ensued, until this time, finally broken by the General Secretary. " Alright then Beria, send out a message. Let's see if we are indeed alone in the universe. "

One hour later, Around Earth's orbit

The Gagarin communications satellite had been the last ordered by the previous Khrushchev administration. It had been launched in mid 2017 and was to date the most advanced communications satellite in existence, and had cost 29 billion rubles to construct. Though usually pointed towards the Earth, the Gagarin was now faced outwards - pointed towards an eerily dark part of space, just beyond the moon. In less than a second, the most advanced satellite ever constructed by mankind, sent out a very short, very simple signal. A single low frequency radio wave.

The Gagarin, using every last gram of it's reception capabilities listened for a response from the emptiness of space.

[Yekrenia]

Petty Admiral Luis Amantius II
Lansa Blanca Class Cruiser - (NLD Fidil d’Papulus)
Earth Orbit

“Efoltešep, huh? (Erde-Tyrene/Beautiful Earth, huh?)” Luis pondered our loud in Kazeri, “I think we should prefer to call this planet, Eden.”

“Ah, very much like the Garden of Eden.” Paris mused, taking into consideration that Captain Paula and the crew were processing the information presented on the holographic screen, “So many vibrant colors for the naked eye to mesmerize.”

The hyperintelligent and individualistic AI wasn’t wrong with such a beautiful comment. This planet was of green, white, yellow, brown, and blue. It appeared very much like a cousin to the Pallidan homeworld, Dasan; however, the only difference being its inhabitants.

They were of humanoid traits and descriptions almost identical to the Pallidans; however, the only differences being that these humanoid brings had either white, tanned, or dark skin. In addition, these humanoid creatures had a limit choice of hair colors (black, brown, grey, blonde, and red) and eye colors (brown, green, and blue), which was limited unlike the Pallidans’ choice of colors. For the past hour, the Fidil d’Papulus and the other shipsvwete running surface scans and analyzing the planet’s cultures, biomes, tectonic and atmospheric activities, and if not to forget ... its inhabitants indeed.

“Paris.” Luis grumbled, getting Paris back on track.

“Sorry, I can’t help what we’re...” Paris suddenly hesitated before he looked at Luis and Paula only to promptly vanish and have May replace him.

“Sir, the diagnostics check.”

“Yes. What do we have?”

May brought up the information on screen of all the warp drive’s data. Power levels were considerably low for the reactor combined with the warp drive, whom was in a worsen state than the ship’s dark matter reactor. Apparently, the warp drive’s quantum fuel reserves had ruptured due to unchecked radiation and cosmic exposure, causing the quantum to degrade until the drive could no longer provide itself a stable supply of power.

“Paula,” Luis barked at Captain Paula among the bridge, “Any reason for Paris’ suddenly leave?”

“No sir.” Captain Paula replied back. She was a 5’7ft tall Palladian female with brown hair and green eyes, plus the standard female MULDA (“Marinha d’Uniũa d’Libirtaćũa Dimicratica”) uniform; however, she had undergone the infamous three-week long comatose period of the Pallidans’ ‘biological immortality’ trait. She may appear like an 18-year-old, but she was technically 42-years-old given that ‘biological immortality’ only reversed her previously 39-year-old self into a 15-year-old for the first time.

“Leave him be. I’m sure he’ll be back with plenty of good reasons.”

But as a saying goes, ‘speak of the devil and he shall appear’, Paris returned on holographic display alongside May to his left.

“Admiral, I’ve found our solution. There is quantium here.”

“Paris, how can you be sure of that? We’re not the invaders in the first place.”

“Maybe not, but without that quantium, we’re stranded here until we mine it.”

“Indeed, but we can’t just fight our way down there. Look what we’re going up against. This planet already belongs to another species that barely has the capabilities to explore beyond their own planet.” Luis argued back sternly, taking into consideration of the earlier data collected from Paris and the Exploration Division on board.

“Then what’s our options, sir? What is the meaning of being here?”

“Paris, watch your mouth. But what do we have? All we have is the data regarding the planet’s surface scan, and a basic overview of the cultures down below. Otherwise, we’re going up against a species well-seasoned and used to hellish conflicts despite their technological backwardness.”

“But that’s their only advantage in a war with us.” Commander Tavaris chimed in from the left of Luis. Tavaris was a 5’10ft tall Palladian male with white hair (secured with a short ponytail at the back) and green eyes, plus the standard MULDA male uniform on his person. He was in charge of the ship’s Expeditionary Forces whenever the fleet was sending military units down to the surface; however, Tavaris was not somebody that the lower ranks nor Luis respected entirely.

From the start, Luis knew that Tavaris was an arrogant and sly man, which may have been good for sweet talking and deception for the enemy; however, outside of the field, Tavaris had every reason from the lower ranks to be considered ‘a cocky asshole’. He was clever and intelligent indeed, but his attitude and arrogance were what neutralized his reputation for Luis, whom often brushed him away and spoke directly to just get him out of his face. Hearing him talk annoyed Luis as much as it made the lower ranks avoid him except out in the field, which was Luis did not welcome Tavaris’ presence so openly.

“Maybe if they had ships in orbit similar to our technological powe, then maybe I can stand down, Admiral.” Tavaris suggested as he had his hands on his hips and looked at the data on the holographic display, “But look at this place. We can simply target the major military infrastructure, knock out their communications, power grids, and cyber defenses to allow ourselves to get in there for the quantium.”

“Tavaris,” Luis sternly grumbled, “That’s the brutalist barbarian approach. These aliens will remember this and eventually seek revenge against us in the faraway future.”

“Not if we eradicate them all to cover up our tracks.”

“Tavaris, no! That is final. I’m already tired in scaring and impressing other backwardass aliens out in the expanses of space. You are only making this worse, only by making us turn into mass murder. Say one more word and I might be putting you into early retirement.”

Before Tavaris could sass back any further, another AI of the same clothing and gender if May and Paris appeared on screen, a Kazeri ethnic AI named, Agistvan, “Sirs, I’m reading distress calls on all known communication networks on this planet. Everyone knows we’re here at this point.”

“Any of them arming for war?”

“Yes. Three of which are coming from the largest nations here that go by the names of ... Russia, China, and ... the US. Or also known as the United States of America according to their languages.”

“Missiles, Mass Drivers, or Energy Weapons?”

“All missiles. Nearly every single one of them are nuclear ordinances; the remaining others are conventional surface-to-space missiles designed to destroy satellites.”

“Copy. Tell the entire fleet to prep their point defenses on standby in case we come under attack. We’re not the invaders indeed, but we need to defuse the situation before someone stupid enough pushes the button.”

“Yes sir.”

“And check in with Raul to see if he has deciphered any of these countries’ languages yet. We need to assure these countries to not fire upon us, ASAP.”

“Raul has cracked most of this planet’s languages; however, he’ll need more time to crack China’s languages. He also needs more time to stealthily infiltrate this planet’s worldwide internet without a trace; the governments here are as crooked as a townhouse fence. They don’t want much attention in the media with our presence known here.”

“Say no more, just tell him to compile greeting cards for this planet’s governments ASAP.”

“As you wish.” With that conformation, Agistvan disappeared from the holographic screen, leaving only May and Paris to the bridge once more...

[Korhal IVV]

Ruins of Esteria

Ruin. Death. Destruction. These are all things that the dwindling Ensari race had to endure every day as their enemies hound to the ends of the galaxy. One world after another, the Ensari League fell as their combined foes struck without mercy. Quantium rich worlds were taken as bounty, and then drained completely by massive armadas as the Ensari abandoned their planets for the safety of their moonships. Millions of years of evolution and technological development, all brought to the brink of ruin as the Ensari found themselves assailed in all sides. Though their advanced weaponry brought heavy losses to their foes, the Ensari are few, and their enemies many. Now, thousands of years after the fall of the Ensari League, only four scant moonships of the Ensari survive. Scattered across the four corners of the galaxy, they maintain tenous communication with each other, desperate to find hope in a galaxy drained of Quantium. Without that precious resource, they are stranded, doomed to drift until they meet their end at hands of fate and age.

But a glimmer of hope reared itself. In a backwater world in the Orion Arm, one last deposit of Quantium remains. Seizing the opportunity, the Ensari spread the word to each other, bringing up an ever so dim spark that will light the fires of rebirth. In the fourth day of Ner in the seven millionth and eighteenth year of the Ensari, all remaining vessels of the Ensari will commence a long range warp to this world. They left their moonships with a prayer to the Envara in their lips, hope in their hearts, and a burning psychic power in their minds. One hundred fifty warships converged as they met at a single point in orbit near Pluto. As the armada met, their commander was fast asleep in his chambers. Lord Commander Sol Hazari forbade anyone to disturb him, and so the armada waited for the commander to awake in his own volition. Little did they know that the Lord Commander has a nightmare.

He watched as he saw his homeworld burn. Fleets of alien vessels fired their lethal weapons towards the cities below, killing millions every second. Aboard the great moonship of Azkelon, he watched as the entire world burned. His terrible dream was almost alike, but Azkelon was the one that burned this time. He wept in his sleep, as his dream saw him walking through the ruins of Azkelon. His people lay dead in bloody mounds, and the halls were kneedeep in their blood. The mansions lay host to the living no longer, for all of them have been slain. Falling to his knees, Hazari saw his dead good friend appear before him.

"Hazari... return now. If our people are to survive, you must lead them.", the ghost said in the dream. "Do not forget the fallen. Let vengeance be your song and our power your sword. Do not allow your sorrow to overcome you. I know you miss us so much after the fall of Jeka, but you must fight on. Both for the living and the dead."

"I will, Anator. I will."

The last thing that the Lord Commander did in the dream was to embrace his friend tightly, swearing to the Envara that the billions who died will be avenged tenfold.

Hazari awoke with tears in his eyes. Wiping them away, he walked up towards the bridge as soon as he put on his normal attire. The Ensari crewmen saluted him as he entered, and they immediately informed him of the situation in hand.

"Multiple fleets detected in the fringes of the solar system, Lord Commander. The planet in question has a civilization, with technology sufficient to begin leaving their planet and taking their own system."

"Engage cloaking, and get us closer to the planet. What is it called?"

"Terra, Lord Commander."

"Send a message to Terra. Tell them this..."

Greetings, People of Terra,

I am Lord Commander Sol Hazari of the Ensari Armada. By now, you would be alarmed by the arrival of multiple fleets in your system. I tell you this. They are our common enemy. They and us seek the resource known as Quantium in your world. All deposits of Quantium have been used up. Except for the one in your world. They will take it by force, but as I aforementioned, they are all foes to both you and us. I propose that we aid each other in this endavour. Agree to an alliance with the Ensari, and you will be given technology to be better able to fight them. I will await your response."

As the message beamed towards Earth, the golden vessels of the Ensari cloaked, and moved towards Saturn. The fleet hid within the rings of Saturn, waiting for the response of the Terrans.

[Former Citizens of the Nimbus System]

Somewhere in the Kuiper Belt

Most of space is just that: space. Even those areas thought by the species that consider themselves advanced to be filled with whizzing rocks, planets and planetoids are mostly void. Thus, in the instant before the most feared spacecraft in the universe warps to the farthest reaches of the system of such rocks, planets and planetoid around the gently-burning star known to the system’s inhabitants as ‘Sol’ or, alternatively, ‘the Sun’, all is quiet.

There is a flash.

Relative to the Sun itself, the Erel slows and comes to as much of a stop as it can while still remaining at orbital speed for this distance from the star; staying in place as much as is possible will make the ballistic calculations based on Vesel knowledge of the Quantium-containing planet’s orbit much easier.

Veselen Zelas has gone through this a thousand times, yet it has failed not to think this thought - and thus not to consider the source of that knowledge - each and every time. The result remains profound sorrow.

This time is different, Zelas. You will not have cause to think such thoughts again. Zelas’ hatchtwin, Yelas, rises behind it on the bridge, conviction and hope thrumming across their empathic link. Our burden will soon be lifted.

Indeed. Then we will finally be able to make our peace with the universe, as will we all. Drawing upon Yelas’ resolve, Zelas broadcasts into the psionic network. Prepare the Valer, Saler and Haler for launch to locate material.

Then, with yet more sorrow in its mind, it makes its second edict known. Redirect psionic flow from the Quantium drive capacitor to the Void Shard.

Millions of Veselar answer its call, focussing their wills upon the great psionic capacitor named for the mythological Erel’s metaphysical source of power.

Veselen Zelas wraps its arms around its body. And may Tocat preserve us, it thinks.

Countdown to Psionic Catapult’s firing: 274 Earth days

[Plzen]

Rådshuset, Stockholm, Nordic Commonwealth

"The press has gotten their hands on this whole story," noted Secretary-General Persson, gravely. "You know what this means. It means that we can no longer afford to wait and observe the unfolding developments. A response, some kind of response, will need to be made."

"The first priority, I believe, is the... Dnye," the Secretary-General struggled, pronouncing the foreign name.

"It appears to have a simple enough solution," suggested the Minister of Justice. "The Commonwealth has enough empty and ice-covered plots of land to accommodate their request for a new home. On the other hand, there are concerns of miscommunication in the future with what is clearly a hive mind, and it is unclear how this... entity will fit into our existing legal-administrative framework."

"Not to mention that as one of the first cases of interspecies diplomacy," pointed out the Minister of Foreign Affairs, "the Commonwealth should strive not to present an image of unilateralism. All considered, I think it best if we present this case before the United Nations General Assembly."

A round of nodding went around the table.

"We still need to present some kind of response to the Dnye," pointed out the Secretary-General. "Perhaps just asking them to hold for the time being while we consider our response. That would be most appropriate."

"I believe," continued the Minister of Foreign Affairs, "that it would be best in order to foster a common front not just for this case, but for all alien contacts. Multiple other transmissions have been intercepted, and it is clear to me that Earth may want to present a common front. Unilateral negotiations will, in the end, hurt all of us."

The Secretary-General nodded.

"Then put that up for the deliberation of the General Assembly as well, and provide all of our current decisions and conclusions to the press."

The Minister of Defence bristled, but at the sight of the Secretary-General's raised eyebrows, retained his silence.

"Good, then. Make it happen."

[G-Tech Corporation]

The asteroid shower over Victoria Land was routine for the space agencies of the world; an erratic incoming bundle of debris from the belt that orbited between Venus and the outer planets, just a bit of junk burning up in the atmosphere. It had been tracked for some time, a natural perturbation in the fabric of the cosmos, hardly worth thinking about in the context of the exciting and alarming new discoveries of incoming extrasolar objects.

But to Cera where she emerged from the rubble of the rock that had housed her form through the long sojourn of the void, that shower had been anything but ordinary. A halo of fire, the overwhelming cold then scalding heat; she had had to shut down sensory input to get through the experience, and that was putting it lightly. Still, it had been worth it. The woman punched away one last bit of brown charred remnant of a dead planet from her left thigh, then stepped forward, savoring the bitter chill of the oxygen-rich atmosphere as she took her first step on this virgin world.

Well, virgin wouldn't exactly be the word for it. There were Potentials here, by all signs, teeming billions of them. But that was an opportunity, not a flaw. At any rate, the Scion seemed to have been correct- this polar region had all the mineral concentrations she would need for a small monitoring outpost, and more, if the Prime decided it was necessary. There were worrying signs that this fledgling civilization, barely moved beyond the shell of its geosphere, risked extinction. A dozen intrasolar races were descending on the traces of that most curious of fuels which suffused the planet, and many would not be scrupulous about how they obtained it.

A creak of limbs, not audible- for the Servitor did not move with sound- but of the deeper senses.

Mistress? Shall I begin excavations as the Ar-Techsin suggested?

Yes. Cera paused, mental voice quiet for a moment, considering the horizon, her face uncovered and unconcerned though it was many degrees below the freezing point of water. There is a mountain range a klick in that direction, we shall base ourselves there. Begin primary activation sequence.

The Techsin levitated slightly, feet a few inches above the snow, and she glided forward as swiftly as a skyeel stalking its prey, barely disturbing the pristine tableau of snow as she coursed over its surface. Behind her more clumsy creatures, long-limbed beings of silvery metal that flickered with impossible colors at the corner of the eyes, began punching their way out of other pieces of the asteroid that had been the first infiltrator's chariot.

It was time to get to work.

[Galactic Collectivist States]

DATA LOG
YEAR: 730 POST REVOLUTION / 3280 CE (?)
LOCATION: SOL-???-1 (?????)

"So, you've determined our exact location in extra-universal space Lieutenant?" Andrei Kamenev, capt of the UNS October Revolution, asked his second in command while pacing around the bridge of his ship in a frustrated manner. "From the looks of it, that planet over there is definitely Earth."

"You're not wrong," Andrei's second in command replied, taking a moment to observe the famed 'blue-planet' humanity had originated from. "This is Earth, just not the Earth we were trying to get to. The total lack of advanced infrastructural development, as well as the total absence of the Terran Defense Fleet should be obvious give aways that we've probably been displaced."

"Goddamnit!" Andrei pounded his fists against a nearby control board. "Just when I was on the verge of getting a promotion, this happens! Why must my luck be so bad?!"

The lieutenant chuckled. "So, your promotion was more important than completing the mission at hand? Sounds awfully counterrevolutionary to me." He chuckled again, largely at Andrei's expense.

"That's not what I meant! I'm simply annoyed that I'm always at the wrong place at the wrong time!"

"Suit yourself, comrade."

...

Communications Center, C Deck

On a normal day, the communications deck would be empty, as its function (receiving long range coms) was totally irrelevant in most scenarios (the AI would always handle it). Nevertheless, a few crew members would be posted in the comms deck for largely insensible reasons, but those were never areas of concern to begin with.

There had been a good deal of debate surrounding this, as other "senior" (there really weren't any other high ranking officers on board) officers wondered whether or not simply blurting out the UNS October Revolution's existence was a good idea or not. The political officer was largely uninterested, blabbering on about "counterrevolutionary propaganda" while wasting himself over a few bottles of vodka. He didn't seem to mind the slightest that the capt had decided to initiate first contact "with a bang", but then again, he never seemed to mind anything while he was drunk. The scientific attaché, in comparison, was rather skeptical (after consulting the ship's AI). After doing a few calculations and running over information collected from Earth's various databases, the AI had come to the conclusion that there would likely be a good deal of panic upon first contact: Kamenev's idea of simply hacking into all of Earth's media, while easily possible, would probably be a rather stupid move. In conclusion, it was simpler to hack into the "classified" communications links of the various nations: the three old world superpowers in particular (China and the United States were easy to confirm seeing that the differed lightly from main-line; the continued existence of the Soviet Union on the other hand, a nation which was believed to have collapsed in 1991, did alter predictions ever so slightly). Other "Earthly notables" such as the Nordic Confederation (another non-mainline nation), United Kingdom, India, etc, would be contacted as well. The repercussions for so blatantly hacking into these systems were deemed trivial.

As the last few adjustments for Kamenev's mostly public broadcast were being made, sensors picked up a single radio wave. After automatically reporting this to the capt, the AI of the ship quickly identified the satellite that had sent the message. Capt Kamenev waived this off; there was no need to respond, after all, he was going to be making the speech.

...

Command Bridge

"So, Lieutenant, we're just outside the moon's orbit?" Kamenev asked while reviewing information he had received regarding two atmospheric breaches.

"We are indeed, comrade. It'll only take us around a minute to reach Earth, if that's what you're asking about."

"No, that wasn't. Anyhow, are all information scans of the surface complete? I'd like to see the data on what defenses they have."

"Affirmative", the Lt responds, bringing up a holographic display detailing various military assets. "The defenses on Earth as of the early 21st century are quite unremarkable: such can only be expected from pre-FTL humanity. The most they have a few anti-satellite missiles and a number of low megaton nuclear ICBMs. Nothing compared to the antimatter and graviton torpedoes fielded by the stellar navy. Even if we are hit, the damage should be little more than a scratch."

"Good, so we won't need to take any extraordinary measures?"

"No sir, simply raising the shields and activating the PD guns should provide ample protection against their entire arsenals, if need be. That's assuming we stay in space, anyhow. If the ship somehow descends into atmosphere, we expect a lot more flak coming towards our way if we aren't careful."

"Understood, so you're 100% sure we aren't at risk."

"Well, not 100%, but I'd say a good 99.9%. However, that's assuming the other xenos don't get involved," the Lt pulls up a display of the solar system. "We've found countless other alien vessels in Sol, and I'm not sure they all have good intentions. We might find ourselves entangled in some combat sooner or later."

"In that case, I say bring it on! Our ship was built to fight, and fight it shall if the future of humanity is threatened!"

"Let's not get hasty, Kamenev. It's best we simply wait it out for now. Also, don't you have a broadcast to make?" The Lt questions.

"Yes indeed! Uhh... prepare for the broadcast! We'll be starting in half a minute!" Andrei straightens up his uniform (which resembles a blue soviet-era one) and Universal Liberation Navy cap. After reciting and practicing his Mars-Terran English (quite rusty due to his infrequent exposure to it), he decides that he'll have the ship's AI correct any errors he makes.

"Computer! Are all preparations complete?"

"Yes they are, comrade Kamenev", the AI of the ship responded rather unenthusiastically. "You may start when you're ready. I've hacked into the necessary comms channels in order for your message to come across. You'll be able to reach those who need see it: the common people will be uninformed, for now at least."

"The systems they used were incredibly easy to crack", the scientific atache adds. "They're pretty much identical to the ones mentioned in the old tech databases. In other words they were beyond primitive!"

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT TO EARTH AND ITS CITIZENS
Greetings, comrades and fellow humans of the galaxy. This might seem strange and incredibly overwhelming but bear with me. I am Andrei Kamenev, captain of the UNS October Revolution: which as you can guess, is a spaceship, located not so far off from the moon's orbit. My crew and I have been systematically stranded in this solar system following a major reactor failure, so as much as some of you would like us to leave, we cannot. Anyhow, this is all irrelevant information.

The fact is: we are here, and we are here to stay. I have come to the conclusion that opening peaceful communications with the inhabitants of Earth would be beneficial for both of our groups, assuming we can stay civil. I'm sure you'd appreciate the information we've gathered during our short stay, and the fact we're largely willing to assist in your endeavors.

May luck be on your side. Long live the revolution, and long live the Union of Collectivist Solar Republics!

Kamenev Out.

Kamenev looked at an aide. "Prepare a firepower demonstration in case anybody tries something. Just so they know we're not fake."

The Lt looks at Kamenev for a moment, pondering over what Kamenev had just said. "You realize you've probably caused a lot of trouble with that one short announcement, right? It was almost totally out of the blue ."

"Oh. Oh well," Kamenev shrugs. "At least I wasn't threatening them."

The Lt groaned in annoyance. Sometimes I wonder how kids like him even gain command positions.

[Yekrenia]

Petty Admiral Luis Amantius II
Lansa Blanca Class Cruiser - (NLD Fidil d’Papulus)
Earth Orbit

“Phew, that's the last of them, sir.” Raul sighed as he appeared on holographic display before Petty Admiral Luis and Captain Paula (Tavaris already left), "I do apologize for taking so long."

"You've jacked inside their systems nevertheless." Captain Paula sternly said while Luis listened in the background, "What have you got?"

"Just the ordinary low-threat firewalls as expected of a planetary-stricken species. Also, I have also complied the greeting cards and already sent them out on a private line, satellite and terrestrial alike."

"Entrusting that the inhabitants here can put together our ... handiwork?" Luis inquired if not also emphasizing the word 'handiwork' in a subtly sly manner.

"Oh I've token care of that." Raul shrugged, "Want me to show you the greeting in text, sirs?"

"Yes." Paula and Luis said almost at the same time, whom Raul chuckled briefly before he was replaced by a holographic display of the following greeting message (English Translation in effect):

Hello and Greetings from the Union of Greater Dasan Republics

Under the stars gazes a noble wonder
Amid the beauty in the stranger
And the somber expanses beyond
We give you our sincere spectacle

There in the meadows awaited
Thirty lances around together
Forty dozen flowers all around
Eighty bees all in gospel labor

Whether there be light or dark
The lances await for those in need
If not worthy to comply in stead
But fear no dearly mistake indeed

When utterly ready and at will
Give the lances the call to arms
Give them the a safe place too
Give them your doubt and review

We are here to help you

"Hmm. Not bad." Luis grumbled, "But I have seen worse coming from lesser AIs."

---

Cyberspace

Within in minutes and hours after Raul complied and sent the greeting cards, the greetings cards were quick to make their way to China, the Russia (USSR), and the USA without landing outside of private and secure cyberspace networks. One particular Soviet satellite was no stranger to receiving such a greeting card typed in the Russian language; however, the poetic greeting was also written in Ukrainian, Kazakh, Belorussian, Georgian, Armenian, Azerbaijani, Estonian, Lithuanian, and Latvian. But as expected from a species known for their artistic and poetic upbringing, the text was stylized in an elegant cursive text - regardless of it being in another alphabet - so beautiful and perfect, that it would pretty much be considered art than an formal introduction from the visitors of space.

English was among the same boat as well, which was just as elegant and smooth that it would appear like the US constitution had just been reborn in the form of poetry. Unfortunately, the same could not be applied for traditional and simplified Chinese alike; however, different brush strokes and colors were used to emphasis the context and gorgeous strokes of each Chinese character. Subsequently, it wouldn't be long until the three major superpowers of Earth/Eden would be introduced to the Union of Greater Dasan Republics and its formal request to land in secrecy...

[Plzen]

United Nations General Assembly,
New York City, United States

BEGIN TRANSCRIPT================================

Honourable Chairs, respected delegates, and welcomed guests,

I bid you all greetings.

As you are all no doubt already aware, in the past few weeks our planet Earth has become a host for many guests from across the universe and, indeed, from other universes. Some have made an active effort to contact and communicate with our civilisation, while others remain aloof, observing.

The member state which this delegate represents has itself received such a message, from an entity calling itself the Dnye. A survivor of a calamity that seeks to resettle itself on our planet.

Before this new information, delegates, several conclusions must inevitably be drawn.

First, the world needs to adapt to a new reality without the concept of anthropogenic sovereignty. All social institutions, national or international, revolve around the organisation of humans. The assumption has always been implicitly made in the way that human civilisation has designed these institutions that with regards to the socio-political sphere of civilisation, Earth humans would remain the sole group of actors. This has demonstrated itself clearly to not be the case, and our legal and administrative framework must adapt in order to accommodate this new reality.

Second, the state which this delegation represents has come to the conclusion that before this opportunity and threat, the likes of which the world has never before seen, solidarity between human nations is more important than ever. Regardless of our disputes on Earth, regardless of our enmity with each other, human civilisation shares far more with itself than it shares with the alien beings to which planet Earth is now host. In order to most effectively assure humanity's ability to capitalise on this opportunity and humanity's ability to neutralise any threats, it is necessary for these United Nations to present a common front of negotiations against any non-terrestrial polities and entities.

Accordingly, this delegation calls for the creation of a new advisory body within the United Nations, composed of various experts in relevant fields, to set guidelines for and oversee all official human-extraterrestrial contact henceforth, as well as to advise national governments and international institutions regarding the new reality within which they need to now carry out their duties.

Delegates, there can be no doubt that the human world is now facing unprecedented change and, with it, difficult challenges. Yet, it is in the darkest storms that the greatest victories are claimed. This delegate has no doubt that the civilisation shall persevere, as it has always done, and that the delegates gathered here will support the necessary measures to enable it to do so.

Thank you.

This delegate now returns the floor to the Chairs.

================================END TRANSCRIPT

[Multiversal Venn-Copard]

Sentience 1280 "Odyssey"
Kuiper Belt

Barring the bizarre relativity-breaking effects of faster-than-light travel, and other things that the Awakened didn't like to think about, there was no such thing as stealth in space.

It was little surprise, then, that the c-frac probe the size of a small region hurtling its way towards Sol concluded, in the midst of its slow awakening from hibernation, that it was probably being tracked. It hadn't arrived at this by observing the surroundings and watching for telescopes or gravitational sensors or the like, though it certainly could have done that had it awoken earlier and begun arming its own instrumentation; rather, it had been born under the assumption that everything was being tracked anyway, and that, as such, there wasn't much of a need to try to hide its presence from the star system it was approaching. So as it booted itself up and kicked its quantum computer banks into action in preparation for its arrival, Odyssey wasn't too concerned about whether the natives, if any, would spot it. It was mostly just concerned about the fact that it was coming in for its approach very, very quickly.

A piece of circumstellar debris - a chunk of ice the size of a brick - slammed into one of its building-scale frontal ablative armor panels at such a high relative velocity that its kinetic impact registered on Odyssey's dampeners as something on the order of a thermonuclear bomb, the energy tearing outwards across the thick slab of metal and leaving a crater with an elaborate but very thin ray system. It had joined millions of similar cosmic missiles across Odyssey's millennia-long journey in pockmarking the massive probe's frontal section but, mercifully, failed to penetrate its armor to any significant depth. These little impacts were more of an annoyance to the superintelligence than a hindrance, but it took the event as a reminder to prepare for slowing down and scanning the system ahead.

Two main debris fields, one near the system's midsection and one, further out, that the probe had just passed through.

A handful of funny little objects of highly varied origins, exiting a series of ludicrous faster-than-light transits. What kind of species even needed to be in that much of a hurry?

Eight major planets: four gas giants orbiting farther away, and four terrestrials closer to the star, including one in the habitable zone that was screaming in all kinds of radio frequencies and otherwise doing a very good job at letting any other intelligences nearby know that its species was emerging, developing computer technologies, and taking its first steps towards true power. Perhaps that would explain the other spacecraft.

None of that was terribly important, though. The one thing that interested Odyssey more than potential contact with new civilizations, developing or developed, was the healthy, relatively quiet G2V star sitting right in the middle of the system. That was the reason for its visit; even if the visit had to last thousands of years, which it probably did, given the calculations Odyssey had performed beforehand, that star was the only point in even coming here. Octillions of tons of easily magnetized and fusable material swirling around, ripe for the picking; this was Odyssey's very purpose, and its sole objective was to gather as much of the stuff as possible.

Another impact with a piece of rock brought the superintelligence out of its scanning cycle a few tenths of a second later. With a metaphorical sigh, it opened up a series of gaps between its ablative armor panels - the frontal ones, which had taken the brunt of the wear during its interstellar journey - and ignited the reaction drives with its remaining fuel reserves.

If, for some bizarre reason, neither the primitives or the newly-arrived civilizations had detected the probe approaching before, they would all be very acutely aware of its entry in a few hours' time once the light from its tremendously bright engine flares, pumping out petajoules every second as they slowed down the craft from mind-boggling speeds, reached their detectors.

Or they'd use some of that nonsensical FTL stuff, thought Odyssey, the stuff that somehow didn't cause the fabric of causality itself to break apart.

[Republic of the Cristo]

Propta, USSR

" It's poetry. " Sokolov looked up from the paper in his hand towards the other assembled men in the room.

" We sent them a radio signal and they sent us poetry. How is this possible? " Since the panic of a few days ago, the situation within Propta had calmed down a bit. Now removed from the panic room, the general-secretary and the other members of the politburo were more free to roam around the massive facility. Presently, Sokolov found himself seated in a leather chair in one of Propta's more casual conference rooms ( a.k.a, the bar ).

With a paper of alien poetry in one hand, and a glass of Beluga in the other, Sokolov looked out to the men of science seated in a circle of leather chairs around him. Though, of course, the question was a ridiculous one - the assembled scientists held a deathly grim expression. It would be Anatoly Kuznetsov, Deputy-chief researcher at TICS ( Technical Institute of Computer Science in Omsk ). Kuznetsov was did not look like the typical scientist type. At over six feet tall and with a broad body, he looked more like a Mongolian football player than a distinguished professor of computer science.

" Comrade secretary... In recent days we have... had - massive, security breaches, of our computer networks. " Kuznetsov took off his glasses, which proved only to further exaggerate his large features.

" Civilian databases, communications networks, commercial data banks, state archives... and military records. "

As Kuznetsov continued on, the realization began dawning more and more upon Sokolov. He laid his back into the leather chair and looked up to the ceiling. " They know everything we know. " The damning statement was followed by a quick sip of Beluga, which did little to numb the sudden feeling of helplessness ( but still did something ). Kuznetsov nodded in confirmation.

" If it was online or on an open network, they managed to hack it. They did it all in an incredibly short amount of time. Just by retracing the steps of their breach, we find that they have ginormous computing capabilities. Just by retracing their steps we are already learning new things. And.. their not the only ones. "

Kuznetsov was promptly cut off as Skolov snapped his fingers. " Hold that thought. "

Sokolov got up from his chair and moved to the center of the circle, were a recording device had been set up. Pushing the power button and turning the device off, Sokolov looked up around the room. " These... ET's, have turned our technology against us. The ease of access to all our information and communications through computers now means that they can track all our moves and monitor our technology... so long as we rely upon these computers, or so long as their computer technology surpasses our own. From now on - all essential state information will be withheld from computers and cellular communications, and will only be communicated through more secure methods. "

Sokolov took another sip from his Beluga before looking over towards the security guards waiting next to the door. " Go find a type writer, and bring it here at once. "

Without a moment's hesitation, the guards departed in search of a type writer. Content with the new safety measures, Sokolov seated himself back into his chair. With a nod back to Kuznetsov, the computer scientist continued.

" Yes the... well, as you know, it wasn't just these, uh, Dasan Republics, who wormed their way into our networks. It was also the, so called, Union of Collectivist Solar Republics. They too exhibited massive computational power in accessing out systems as well - but in different ways. "

Sokolov nodded, furrowing his brow. " Yes, I found them to be the most perplexing of all. The uniforms, the names of everything... it all seems phoney. Like it was tailored specifically to try and entice us. "

A round of nods from the men around the room ensued. The scientist to Sokolov's right, whose name eluded him at the moment, gave his take on the matter. " If you recall, comrade secretary, the message from the Ensari said that these people were enemies of theirs and intended to steal some kind of resource from us. They might have a point - this could very well be a ruse from the ET's. "

Sokolov sighed as he took another sip from his glass... which was now dangerously close to being empty. " Everyone is a potential enemy, and we have no way of knowing for sure who all is who. "

Anton Beria, head of the Roscosmos corporation, and recently the 2nd most popular man in Propta, spoke up from the group. " Well, we could throw a house warming party. "

The unamused look which Sokolov cast Beria from across the room immediately killed the man's humor. " What I mean is - uh - we could potentially meet these beings face to face, in order to try and better understand them and their intentions. None have been out and out hostile yet, so it might be prudent in understanding their long term goals for the Earth. "

Kuznetsov placed his glasses back on his face and turned towards a Beria with a skeptical look. " And where exactly would you propose such a face-to-face meeting? bringing them here to the Earth would be incredibly risky! "

Beria smile and shook his head. " We don't have to bring them to the Earth - we can meet them in space. The Mir II has six crew members aboard and is currently in orbit around the Earth. We could rely a message to the crew aboard and inform them that they shall be representing the Earth in these meetings. "

Though Kuznetsov continued to look on skeptically, Sokolov was intrigued. He moved forward to the edge of his seat. " Would they be able to host such an endeavor? "

Beria straightened himself up with pride. " Those men and women are among the smartest individuals in the entire world - not to mention that each one of them have had years of military experience and are no strangers to extreme situations. They can host the meeting, and it will still be far enough away from the Earth to ensue our safety... And if the meeting goes bad, the station is within effective striking distance to our ballistic arsenal. We could rely a message through the Gagarin across the system making our intentions clear. "

Kuznetsov folded his arms across his chest. " I simply cannot agree comrade Beria. Allowing for the ET's to come any farther than past the moon poses a terrible risk to our security. I think that we would be better off continuing to just communicating with each other through long distance communications. "

The conversation was suddenly stopped with the sound of the bar door opening. The guards had returned, and in one of their arms they held a type writer. Sokolov hardly noticed as he eyed his empty glass. In a low voice, he sealed the fate of the all future Human-ET relations. " We need to understand who we are dealing with. And we can't do that by talking through radio waves. We will need to meet. Beria, set the message and rely to the Mir. Their going to have a lot to prepare for. "

Beria leaned back in his chair, smiling towards a scowling Kuznetsov. Kuznetsov looked back towards Sokolov, in a final attempt to argue his point. " And what of the UN proposal? What about the new proposed Bureau? "

Sokolov didn't bother looking towards Kuznetsov, his gaze now held by the guards who were wipping the dust off of the type-writer and filling it with paper. " Oh that... yes, our delegate vetoed proposition in the first round of voting. We're not going to hand over something this important to western pawns in the UN. "

A single continuous radio wave sent out from the Gagarin Communications Satellite.

- To all foreign elements currently occupying the space of the Sol system -
- This satellite is the only legitimate source of communication between the sovereign states of Earth and your persons -
- Communications from sources other than this one are to be disregarded -
- No portion or element from your possessions or persons shall pass past the moon which orbits the Earth -
- If a portion of element of your possessions or persons is to travel passed the moon of Earth than this will be considered an act of war against the whole of Earth's sovereign states -
- There exists one exception to this command -
- A single representative from your number, a legitimate person among you, is to arrive to these COORDINATES, within the next two complete rotations of our planet -
- Your number will act as a representative of your persons before a number of our persons -
- Bring with you a list of your intentions in our system -
- Your responses are expected promptly to this satellite -

[G-Tech Corporation]

The shard plummeted down through the thick atmosphere, buffeting aside cloud and superscape as if they were the playthings of a child, a hole torn in the protective veil of poisonous gaze and lethal miasma that shrouded the planet. Lightning, disturbed by the passage of the object, coursed about its silver-smooth surface like an affectionate cat, a charge suitable to vaporize a lesser ship in an instant recognizing a kindred spirit in the occupant of the vessel. With the impact of a hammer of forgotten gods the shard struck the orange-reddish surface of the scarred world, rending asunder the ground like a piece of wet tissue where its prow struck the soil, sending a plume of decimated stone and regolith skyward.

A few minutes later, the red-hot exterior of the craft had cooled, its three-meter long bulk far too small to be noticed by any logical race now buried under hundreds of meters of collapsed soil and crushed bedrock. That served the occupant's purposes nicely. From the mirror-smooth skin of the obelisk extended minute protrusions, scarcely larger than the fists of a human, but their effect was far more dramatic than their size would indicate. From the protrusions surged waves of prismatic energy, hues of color no mortal mind could process, let alone comprehend. Under the chaotic assault ore bent, rock reverberated and retreated, and the mind within the shard shaped its environment to its needs.

Anon a hiss of energy cracked from the shard, and a woman stepped out of a suddenly appearing gap in the silver surface. Her feet, clad in what appeared to be nothing more than black polished boots, rang slightly as she trod on the floor of smooth integrated stonework. A smile, quick and cool, collected, marked her face, eyes of crimson and midnight swirling in an inhumanly beautiful face. Scarlet lips parted, speaking to a sister across the void between stars.

I've made planetfall. Update?

A million miles distant, a pale brunette woman stared up at the ceiling of a smooth corridor beneath frozen mountains, her mouth working in similarly unheard speech.

Trace values of the fundament. Not as heavily laced as scans indicated, not here, but sufficient.

Good. Shunt me enough for a primary as soon as you have your own online; Lumiel indicates that several fleets of the Fallen are closing on the world, and we shall need to accelerate our timetable. Indeed, some of the Potentials look to embrace their own destruction. Energy signatures from beyond the Harbinger are also of note.

Cera frowned, her delicately shaped eyebrows coming together in thought.

Current estimates put concentration gradients sufficient in two more rotations.

We shall have to hope the Potentials are capable, then, or this enterprise may be brought to a precipitous end.

The connection was severed after that comment, and Valia concentrated her attention on the rollicking mass of rock in front of her. At the gesture of an outstretched hand it flexed, a burst of heat and light following the motion, and slowly a form began to extricate itself from the morass. Its head was smooth, featureless, alien, but the Ascended was not perturbed by its arrival. There was much work to do here.

[Plzen]

Secretary-General's Office, Rådshuset,
Stockholm, Nordic Commonwealth

"...there's no chance of this happening as we intended, then?"

The Ministry of Foreign Affairs shook his head.

"Not against Russian opposition. Nothing that we've proposed is binding, and with open hostility from one of the planet's superpowers, whatever nonbinding proposal we pass in the Assembly will be meaningless. We might as well let the issue die a quiet death at this point, for all the good pushing it through will do. Even if it passes, it will have little effect."

"In short," grunted the Minister of Defence, "the Commonwealth needs to prepare its own response."

The Minister gazed up at the map of the Commonwealth hanging from the right-side wall. It was marked, among other things, with every non-confidential military facility and immobile asset possessed by the Nordic Defence Force. After a short moment, he continued.

"...all of its responses," he continued.

"Brief me," the Secretary-General requested. "This is uncharted territory, and you guys are the experts. What are our options?"

The Ministers shared a few quick glances at each other. As if by an agreement, the Minister of Foreign Affairs began first.

"Well, our first consideration is the Soviet Union. The message broadcast earlier today from Gagarin Communications Satellite implies that the Soviet Union intends to control discourse between Earth and its visitors. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs has no intention of letting them do so. The Commonwealth also needs its own channel of communication to the alien forces."

"As our Ministry of Defence points out," the Minister continued, prompting nodding from the Minister of Defence, "our inability to seriously counter decryption by other Earth-bound powers, let alone the advanced information-communication technologies no doubt possessed by our visitors, means that our only possibility of private communications is by hosting a meeting with actual physical proximity. Considering the Commonwealth's lack of an independent space programme and the immature state of the European Space Agency's nascent space infrastructure, this leaves us with only two viable choices, both unappealing."

The Minister looked somewhat grim.

"First, request that a suitable friendly power with access to an independent space program represent our interests before extraterrestrial forces."

"Alternately, invite the extraterrestrials to Earth."

The Secretary-General sighed, and rubbed his temples. Why did these things keep happening during his term?

"Let's consider potential landing sites, then..."

---

High-Powered Radio Broadcast,
Radio Norden; Channel 2 frequency

We greet our visitors from the stars.

I am State Minister Reynir Jón Þórirsson, speaking on behalf of the Nordic Commonwealth. We are a free polity of twenty-seven million individuals, who value above all our ability to shape our own destinies as we wish. Although English is not my native tongue, I broadcast in it as it is known that you have decrypted this language.

First of all, permit me to greet you all to the Sol System. Earth welcomes you, and the Commonwealth anticipates a long period of successful co-operation between our respective polities, and we have hopes that you have arrived on Earth to find the same.

Second, we wish to convey that the Commonwealth exists on the basis of certain inviolable principles, and that we expect that in any co-operation between our respective polities, you will respect these principles in your dealings with ourselves. These principles are best expressed by the Charter of the Nordic Council, by which we attempt to regulate ourselves, the text of which has been attached as an appendix to this broadcast.

Third, for the purposes of establishing more permanent and reliable relations and channels of discourse between ourselves and your interests, we invite representatives from all interests gathered here at Sol to Earth.

The meeting shall be held at Bouvetøya, the location of which has been attached as an appendix to this broadcast. Should the physical and chemical conditions of this island be unsuitable for you, please respond with details of that incompatibility. If individual units of your respective interests are significantly larger than human beings, the biological details to which has been attached as a second appendix to this broadcast, please send an autonomous unit or a secure communications device that you will be able to express your interests through, and which we can reasonably accommodate. Finally, we request that any landings be announced well beforehand.

This message will be repeated in the official languages of the Commonwealth, repeated again in English, and concluded with two copies of the aforementioned appendices.

I, and by extension the Nordic Commonwealth, sincerely await your response.

---

Polar Office, Rådshuset,
Stockholm, Nordic Commonwealth

"Asteroid crash over Antarctica," the intern reported.

The director looked up.

"The so-called 'shower' observed by our satellites a few days ago. The meteorite survived, despite its small size, and it's fallen over Antarctica. I know that our scientific offices have great interest in these things."

"So we do," the director replied. "We may want to arrange an expedition. Location?"

"Victoria Land," the intern responded. "Coordinates..."

The director blanched. Why couldn't it have landed somewhere convenient, like near one of their bases? He sighed.

"Put the report on my desk," he finally responded. "I'll get around to it... eventually."

[Korhal IVV]

Bridge, Starfire Class Battlecarrier, the Lunaven

..."They want a meeting?", the Lord Commander said as sat on his throne on the bridge of the Lunaven. "How polite of them. We will meet them in the coordinates they sent. This will heighten our chances to establishing an alliance.", he went on.

"Who shall we send, Lord Commander? There can only be one, as they stated.", the lieutenant said from behind a mess of screens and holograms. "I do not recommend that you go yourself. The success of this expedition rests on your life, commander."

"Exactly.", Sol Hazari said as he walked over to the command center of the bridge. Looking over the bridge, he spotted one of the envoys of the Azkelon moonship. Mirquel was her name, he believed. Without further ado, the Lord Commander called her over. She hurriedly walked to the side of Hazari. Resplendent in her golden robes and psychic amplifiers floating above her head, she bowed as she asked what was the Lord Commander's command.

"You have a few hundred years of experience in diplomacy in alien races.", Hazari said as he looked over her. "You are to represent the Ensari in this meeting with the Terrans in their station. I trust that you can do that without problems?", he said as he smirked.

"I will not disappoint you, Lord Commander.", Mirquel said as she bowed once again. "The coordinates have been sent to us, yes?"

"Yes, and it has been uploaded to the spacecraft that will bring you to the station. Bye!", Hazari said as light began to shimmer around Mirquel, before it became apparent it was to teleport her to the spacecraft.

"How rude my Lord.", Mirquel mused as she disappeared into a flash of blue light.

"What a humorous way to send your ex off to a diplomatic mission.", Sol Hazari's advisor said as he walked to the side of the Lord Commander. "Still, does she know how to pilot a Nomad?"

"She doesn't have to.", Hazari said, slightly smirking. "A Nomad is two seated, after all."

"So there is gunner?"

"Not necessary at all."

Meanwhile, Mirquel's Nomad sped in a fraction of c as she headed towards the coordinates the Terrans gave in their message. It would be visible from the skies of Earth as a golden spark in the dark void, a comet heralding the coming of terrible omens. It would find the coordinates sent to them as a small station in orbit of Earth.

"Not bad for a planet bound species.", Miruqel mused to herself as the Nomad floated in front of the station. "And too much debris for my taste.", she went on as she watched several pieces of debris flying at supersonic speeds hit their energy shields. "Pilot! Contact the Terrans. Tell them we are here to speak."

[Former Citizens of the Nimbus System]

Bridge of the Erel, somewhere in the Kuiper Belt

The sensation of radio waves beyond that left behind by the Creation Event, though scattered and weakened by the square-cube law, is felt by the Veselar throughout the Erel. The minds of thousands go to work as one across the craft’s psionic network, decoding and unpacking the information contained within: messages, messages from beings who they fully intend to consign to the void.

Zelas considers. The former assumes the existence of others; each is encoded differently; each expresses different intent. The species remains fractured; our information remains correct.

Revelation sparks across the empathic link. The references of ‘you all’, ‘foreign elements, ‘other sources’… We are not the only beings present here beyond the natives, Zelas.

Resignedness passes back the other way. This planet is the only source of Quantium known to us that has neither been exhausted or rendered useless. Others have sought it out for that reason; it is valuable to them. When those others know of our presence, they will seek to safeguard it, potentially by any means necessary.

The second planet that the Erel manifested its annihilation upon was known by the name of ‘Garak’ to its inhabitants, a warlike people who had only just gained the technology of spaceflight. The Veselar had attempted to communicate, warning them to leave their planet behind; instead, they had dashed wave after wave of fighters against the Erel’s great shield in futile suicide runs, not even considering evacuation. As such, they were obliterated, for the same brutal calculus that would guide the entirety of the Veselar’s mission was clear: to safeguard them would be to expend resources that would mean the deaths and pain of uncountable future souls. Their lives across the universe simply outweighed this single loss.

These bitter memories cascade through Zelas now. We must remain undetected for as long as possible. It is the course that will produce the least collective tragedy.

Countdown to Psionic Catapult’s firing: 272 Earth days

[Danceria]

IESS Inquisitive, Oort Cloud
Stardate: 2974-4-2-1809

---

Rather than gracefully glide into the inner planets of GV5 2213-0005, the Inquisitive tumbled bow-over-stern as the folded space violently ejected them. The phenomenon, known as "Warplash" was thought to only occur when starships Q-Drives were either defective or improper (but swiftly rextified) navigational errors. The Inquisitive, however was the newest edition to the Exploratory Armada. While one may argue that the Inquisitive's newness would mean potentially inactive or otherwise malfunctioning hardware, for a mission of this calibre, everything was sextuple-checked.

This was certainly not the finest hour of the Elystimari Imperial Navy.

Once crewmembers reestablished artificial gravity, and other systems that were thrown into chaos from the sudden anomaly, a sit rep was announced.

"Scans indicate large scale activity on the "internet"." Helmsman Gur Oka lifted his sharklike head, moving his analysis to the main view screen. "Seems we're not the only ones who entered this system."

"Who precisely are we dealing with?" the Captain stiffened himself on the command chair.

"By largest fleet, Palidians. Traces of Dyne bioexcess indicates they may be here. Two unknown vessels..." he stiffened, his breath caught in his throat.

The Captain's wings fluttered briefly, sensing something was wrong. "Helmsman? Is there anything further to report?"

The Syrphan's fingers ran wild over the keyboard, hoping to disprove the dread he now feels. "...confirmed presence of an Ensari battlefleet."

One could hear a pin drop in the room. But instead, you would hear the workings of a hundred computers, and the subtle prayer of the Cleric.

"Get a communique probe back to our last location stat. We need a realtime link if we hope to get adequate backup."

"Are we withdrawing, sir?" the cleric asked, her pointed ears folded in fear.

"No..." came the final answer "Out mission is to monitor the deposit of Quanitium, and establish cordial relations with all parties in the system including..." he let the words hang. "Hail the Pallidian flagship, max encryption. I shall write."

With a solemn consensus, a display pad and stylus presented itself towards the captain who wrote:

To The Most Honourable Commander of the Pallidian Fleet: Captain Urilsoron Komid'Gilas, Commanding Officer of the Elystimari Expeditionary Star Ship Inquisitive sends Greetings:

As Skylarks arise from forest
And dance-squids above the sea
So too are all called to the vineyard
And gather what we need

Come, and join us in a harvest!
Should a sheaperd quarrel with another's sheep?*
After all, united effort itself rewards
Those who work together to reap

Fate(Varnaya**) spun her cloaks
Encrusted with threads of ruby gold
Ingniting fires of opportunities
And banishing intentions harsh and cold

For as thine bodies are blesed
With mind, spirit, and heart
Let us now forge this new path
Together in friendship, rather than apart

"...Mmmph. Divinity*** grant me patience to deal with the Pallidian's flowery language. Impromptu poetry is not my strong suit..." The captain growled and set aside the stylus, awaiting his answer.

---

TRANSLATORS NOTES:
*to "Quarrel with another's sheep" is an Elystimsri phrase for those who have common experience or goals to nitpick at the other person's abilities rather than work together.

**Varnaya is the Goddess of Fate, Time, Homely Arts, and is personified by the Sun.

***To be Elystimsri and to invoke all Gods and Saints to aid one in an endeavor, it is polite to use this term. To invoke a particular deity/saint is only acceptable in specific circumstances.

[Republic of the Cristo]

Technical Institute of Computer Science (TICS), Omsk, USSR

" Hell in a hand basket how is this even possible? " Sergei Kolchak, a senior researcher among the TICS faculty, starred angrily passed the cigarette smoke and towards the mess of code on his computer screen. Over his shoulder hung his immediate superior Anatoly Kuznetsov, recently returned from Propta. Kuznetsov's expression was far more amiable than that of his fellow researcher, with a smile actually etching itself from ear to ear. The mongol's silent joy had not rubbed off onto Kolchak however, as the man continued his bemoaning.

" Look at the sequence timing! This was one of the most secure fire walls fielded by any network in the military, and the Dasani hack broke through it in.... 0.0004 seconds! He went through half a million passwords in less than 10,000th of a second! How is - "

" Amazing. " When Kolchak turned around he had to hold back the spit in his mouth.

" This was one of the most advanced fire walls in existence, and the Dasani broke through it like child's play... and they left us all the instructions."

Kolchak scrolled down through the lines of code to review all the commands and actions which had been ordered during the breach. " I mean, they did. But there is like a million lines of code here. It's gonna take a while to sort through it all to get a feel for their methods. " Without taking his belated eyes off the screen Kuznetsov placed his hand on Kolchak's shoulder. " Don't suppose you had any plans for during martial law now did you? Defcon 2, support the motherland. " The sarcasm in his voice palpable.

Kolchak gave a less than subtle sigh as he lit up another cigarette, easing himself mentally into the painstaking task of sorting out computer code. A light suddenly went off over Kolchak's head. " Hey, what about that other hack from the other ET's. The collectivists or who ever? We gotta sort as well?"

Kuznetsov straightened himself and finally started looking towards Kolchak, the elation of before turned to a business as usual gaze. " No.. that's already been sorted. "

Kolchak did a double take. " Wait - WHAT?! How?! "

Kuznetsov continued, " They didn't have to breach our security systems, they already had the passwords. Wasn't a lot we could learn from their methods, computer wise. " But as for their origins, he added silently to himself, that was a completely different story.

Valsihka, BrahMos HQ, USSR

Leonard Tchaikovsky, head of Strategic Rocket Forces, had, quite literally, wrote the book on nuclear warfare in space. In 1999, while still an admiral in the navy, he had updated an early 1960's military doctrine which had detailed the possibility of nuclear combat in space to match the current strength of missile and nuclear technology. His 6,000+ page review took into account the consistency of the vacuum of space and how it affects the travel of rockets, how background radiation and lack of atmospheric pressure affects the dispersal of radiation, the possibility of counter-measures against foreign nuclear attacks, and the unmitigated effects of celestial EMP. His work would be the inspiration for several other countries to redraft their own understanding of space based nuclear warfare to match with the capabilities of modern times. The problem with Tchaikovsky's work, however, was that it only accounted for warfare between other Earthly states. ET's were left out of the equation... seeming to alien to incorporate.

Today, he paid for his logical lack of preparation...

He had not slept for three straight days, his work too important, to dire to allow rest ( even for a second )! From Propta, to Moscow, to Valsihka, he would be in constant contact with his subordinates across the world. Cruise missile preparations in Moldova, Submarine relays in the Pacific, all kept in constant contact with Tchaikvosky's person at all times of the day. When not maintaining his current rocket forces, he was expanding them. When he was not being addressed by a superior or not in an literal run ( something which he had to do quite a lot these days ), there was a paper and pen in his hand. Over the last three days, he has signed on for the recommissioning of 6,211 nuclear warheads, of varying yields. The nuclear arsenal, prior to first contact, stood at around 6,700 active warheads - with some 51,000 decommissioned warheads in storage. Though the number of active warheads alone would have been enough to wipe out all life on Earth several times over, new information suggested that it might not be enough to defeat some of the solar system's new inhabitants.

The plan of war with the solar systems ET's had been first devised in Propta, before the General Secretary, numerous experts, and the other leaders of the military. It would be there were Tchaikovsky would realize the monumental task of defeating the ET's in space - as explained by one of the meeting's experts: a women, a mathematician. She couldn't have been more than 5 "2", and her frail body did nothing to help her small frame. Her silver gray hair was pulled back into a painfully tight bun, and her white lab coat appeared faded with age. She had a surprisingly young face with only a few wrinkles. Her voice was one used to be command, almost military in tone.

" We are completely ignorant of the ET's weapons capabilities. Thus far, the only reference even made to combat or warfare was on the part of the Esnsai in regards to the Dasan Republics - and even then, this was a vague and untrustworthy statement. For all we know, they could have no weapons at all, or they could have weapons beyond our comprehension. For all future military endeavors, we must assume the latter. From what technology we already know they posses, we can infer, perhaps, some nature of their weapons. For example - all currently known ET's have traveled here in one, or more, vessels at light speed or close to it. If their vessels can travel such speeds, then we must assume that their weapons can as well: weather that be laser based weapons, radiological, or even kinetic weapons. Secondly, we know that, at least two of the ET factions currently present, show substantial advancement in computer sciences. We know that they are capable of hacking into all terrestrial systems and networks, making current methods of communication completely open for their viewership. With such capabilities, we can assume that they posses some kind of advanced super computing machine, which can run calculations at incredible speeds. No doubt extenuated by the coldness of space. We are then faced with a potential enemy with light or near light speed weapons, which can be guided by super computers. Under terrestrial circumstances, we would have absolutely no chance of victory. Thankfully though, we have distance."

" The nearest ET vessel is the UNS Red October, just 340,000 kilometers away from the Earth, or just past the moons orbit. Assuming that this vessel posses a weapon system capable of light speed, then it would take 1.13 seconds in order for the ship to hit it's intended target. This time frame increases for the Dasan, the Ensari, and all other known ET's beyond the orbit of the moon. Current military strategy involves firing all capable ballistic missiles into orbit towards the general space around the ET vessel or the vessel itself. With the assistance of a super computer guidance system and given the time it would take for such missiles to reach their target, they would not stand a chance of reaching past the moon's orbit. However, if we could periodically change the direction of the incoming missile, say ever .2 seconds, throughout the course of their journey from the Earth to their target, then their chances of survival become significantly higher. A computer targeting system will aim for the spot in space were the missile and their counter weapon will meet a the exact same time - based upon our missile's velocity. If our missile's velocity is constantly changing, without any apparent pattern, than targeting them shall become significantly more difficult. The journey might take longer - but survival rates increase drastically. Even still, we can expect the majority of any given volley to be destroyed before reaching their intended target. It would be necessary to deploy thousands at a time, just to ensure the highest possible rate of success. "

It was this final comment which led Tchaikovsky to the BraMohs HQ in Valishka. The current nuclear arsenal certainly had thousands of warheads to spare, and it even had enough ballistic missiles to launch into space ( though more were be constructed presently to ensure a surplus ), though problem therefore lay with the trajectory of the missiles and their guidance system. Each of the missiles intended for the ET volley would need to be fitted with a computer and a gyroscope fit to change slightly in trajectory every .2 seconds. Throughout the entire ballistic arsenal, not a single such gyroscope existed: that fact being the reason for Tchaikovsky's visit to BraMohs.

Braslavichs, a brilliant rocket scientist from Czechoslovakia, worked as the lead researcher of the BraMohs corporation - an military-industrial group tasked with designing and manufacturing rocket components. When Tchaikovsky had approached Braslavichs with the gyroscope's design the scientist conceded that it was certainly a simple enough design and that he could produce it quickly enough. His smug certainty quickly turned into dread as Tchaikovsky informed him that he would need to produce 100,000 of them in the next six months.

In the personal office of Braslavichs, whilst ignoring the frantic phone calls being made by the rocket scientist to the rest his staff and his superiors, Tchaikovsky sat himself upon a leather coach near the back of the room. His eyes heavy, half closed, a stack of papers upon his lap and a pen in his hand - body had become robotic by this point. Sign name, flip paper, sign name, flip paper, sign name, flip paper. He wasn't even reading what the papers said anymore. And even as his eyes grew heavier, and sleep finally took him, his hands did not stop in their task... For even sleep could not stall the defense of the motherland.

Earth Orbit, Over Victoria's land

In wee hours of morning, over the most desolate landscapes in the world, the Soviet spy satellite fly miles above - taking thousands of pictures per square miles. Over the last week or so, two celestial disturbances had been traced to this region of the planet. Given the context of the current situation, it could not have been a coincidence. Roscosmos, as per military orders, were investigating the matter through use of their satellites.

Moving hundreds of miles an hour, the spy satellite took tens of thousands of pictures of the cratered landscape, the disturbed tracts, and perturbed ice. Within less than an hour later, a submarine of the Soviet navy began it's approach to the coast of Victora Land.

Stockholm, Soviet Embassy the Nordic Commonwealth

A fax from the Soviet embassy to the offices of the Secretary General of the Nordic Commonwealth

5/1/18 ~ 6:00 a.m. - Goering Ave, Bd. 19

Ambassador Kornilov,
To the offices of the esteemed Secretary General

- URGENT -

- Cannot fully disclose at this time, nor through more convenient means. However, as per the request of my superiors in Moscow, it is urgent that we, or a representative on your behalf, are to meet in person in my residence at once -

- END -

[Plzen]

Secretary-General's Office, Rådshuset,
Stockholm, Nordic Commonwealth

09:10 Scandinavia Time, 5th January 2018

To the Office of Kornilov, Ambassador of the USSR to the Nordic Commonwealth,

I acknowledge receipt of your message, and accept sending a representative on my behalf to meet you in person at your residence immediately. Expect Göran Østergård, Director of the Office for Arms Control and International Security Affairs, within your registered residence within half an hour.

Rasmus Persson,
Secretary-General of the Nordic Council

---

Residence of Ambassador Kornilov,
Stockholm, Nordic Commonwealth

Director Østergård has spent most of his twenty-minute drive from his office ensuring that his knowledge of Nordic diplomatic policy as conducted by other offices within the Ministry of Foreign Affairs did not change significantly from what he knew. Thankfully, there was precious little to catch up on. Before he knew it, he had arrived.

What a strange morning, he contemplated, walking up to the door. He pressed the buzzer. The intercom flared to life.

"Ambassador Kornilov, good morning. This is Göran Østergård. I believe we have met before."

He waited patiently until the door clicked open.

[G-Tech Corporation]

The Techsin gazed upon the small luminescent star with all the tenderness of a new mother. Within the chamber leagues into the icy abyss the blue-white glow of the fundament lit her alabaster features in the light of creation, a collection of that which the All-Sire had breathed life into those uncounted eons before. A delicate hand, tapered, a fencer's grasp- a small piece of the radiant pale blue metal came away easily from the crystal formation, and the song within Cera's heart grew more merry and multifaceted. Slowly the piece of truesilver awakened, alien mind stirring, and around the lady's forearm it twined like an affectionate cat recognizing a long-missed master.

And they burned it in their engines, called it fuel. Heathens. Barbarians. Fallen.

Prepared for transit?

A mind-voice broke the overseer's reverie, and she nodded to herself.

One moment. Bringing my primary online.

It was only a moment's walk to leave the primary gathering chamber of what the younger races called Quantium in their ignorance, imagining metal and unlife simply because they could not perceive the truth. More strides carried Cera through hallways and passages here in the bowels of the earth, where faceless machines labored ceaselessly and the blood of this waking world was forged into ought that would be necessary in the days to come. Anon the Techsin arrived at her destination, a still silent room where an immense lever-arm the size of a building stood on its axis.

It was not with words that she spoke to the truesilver which had begun nuzzling at her elbow, for the Maker's gift to the Chosen was quiescent, not aware, but not asleep either. Still, it understood what she asked of it, and was glad. The warmth of its radiance quickened, and as she placed her hand to the end of the immense machine the playful creature happily leapt from her palm to embrace the end of the device.

Was the wind pleased when it filled sails and drove ships on great voyages? The river content with its honest labor when the water-wheel spoke industry into existence? Cera did not know the answer to those questions, but the truesilver was pleased to be of use to creation.

Slowly, drawing from the primordial veil that was its origin for strength, the invisible forces the creature exerted gathered. Then the lever arm began to move, and the Ascendant stepped back, out of the swing of the immense device. The Omega accelerated, and in her bones the watching woman felt the coalescing power which this chamber had been designed to contain and amplify manifest. A graceful courtesy, imaginary skirts drawn up in thanks, and the Techsin climbed a short staircase nearby, turning her back on the growing light and joy of the playful creature.

Above, in the focusing room, a light flickered as Cera approached it. Superluminal transit was not an easy task, energetically expensive, but that did not mean it was without its uses. Gazing at the sphere that formed of the light the Techsin suppressed the too-familiar wave of nausea, and patiently awaited her master's arrival. Looking upon the gate itself was to look at something both entirely real and solid, and yet more than the senses could perceive. Three dimensions? Across the fourth the Ar-Techsin walked, suspended for an infinity in time and space, but in one instant he transited from the outer worlds of this humble system to the depths of her most important world.

Garasov nodded familiarly to his subordinate, smiling as his face cooled and solidified, silvery flowmetal returning to the chosen aspect of its' consciousness.

Ah, it is good to be on solid ground once more. Do not tell her I said so, but even the Harbinger lacks for the comforts of a new unexplored world.

The Ar-Techsin had always been a man with his head in the clouds, Cera reflected, but that imaginative vision could often see what others could not conceive of. It had been his prognostications that had led the few here, to save what would, if the Mainframe had waited in debate as was their wont, a doomed world.

Greetings, Ar-Techsin. Exploration, I am afraid, will have to wait. Sythia's work continues apace, but Lumiel's timetables are demanding. I have prepared a transport for you, to a rich deposit some two hundred klicks east.


Garasov's gray brows furrowed in bemusement, before shrugging in resignation.

Hardly a moment of joy before returning to what is necessary, then. So be it. There is an eternity waiting, if these next few rotations prove apt.

Truth in those words. The two departed the chamber without more conversation, passing by labyrinthine delvings and shafts back towards the surface of the nascent world, where a small brilliantly white ship awaited the Ar-Techsin's pleasure. Though seemingly enclosed within the wall of rock and stone which was the mountain's face, as Garasov gestured the matter parted like so much water, an egress to the frozen beyond.

Lumiel reports interest from the Potentials. A great blizzard rages now, to dissuade their watching eyes, and disguise your passage. Atmospheric in origin, amplification of what was already in the making.

The Ar-Techsin nodded appreciatively to the overseer. Potentials were usually of a good sort, childlike and fey, but that very naivete could prove dangerous if not channeled correctly. And these creatures were at a critical point in their walk- to divert their attentions from the true threats which even now bore down on their world would be most unwise.

A thin gangplank extended from the surface of the vessel as a door opened, and Garasov nodded.

I'll keep you informed of my progress. Harbinger will not break orbit, not yet, but you will be informed if the situation changes. Until later, farewell.

Out into the icy storm the small ship passed, invisible to man and beast against the blanketing sheets of white, another light cast into the future.

[Yymea]

Dnye did it!
Its leathery skin bubbled ever so slightly as it read the alien messages, the tongue they called 'english' was an odd, somewhat broken language, but after spying on human radio signals it had finally come together in its head. It was very proud of itself, but nevertheless a bit worried.

It seemed that the Nordic Federation, or 'Damn Vikings' as its favourite radio station had called them, had found its message, and had tried to convice the other powers to create a united front to decide future policy. They had called Dnye 'survivor'. It liked that. However, the 'Commie filth' had rejected this, and sent a message of their own to space. Dnye had listened to that one. It wasn't very nice. The vikings had sent another one. It trusted them more than the commies.

Dnye thought to itself, ¿What would the old Dnye have done? It thought long and hard, going back to the wars of the Gnbun Plains, the struggles of the ancient warlords, then he thought of the Second Home people, of their first involvement with sentient life. They has felt... wary? Dnye never fully understood this. Aliens are wonderful creatures. Mostly.

Dnye readied the exploration ship to send a message to earth. A printer churned out two solid pages, with text in the best english Dnye could muster, and some soothing images of things Dnye had that it guessed, based on its observations, they would like. A smooth rock, some great photos of a Second Home skyscraper, a drawing of a small alien mammal an old Dnye child had drawn millenia ago... and one of itself. This was only polite.

Dnye made a point of being a bit more careful this time, and aimed for the capital of the two countries it wished to contact with. It could have used a radio signal, but it had detected a large presence of space faring aliens in the system, and although it would usually welcome this, there were just too many to be safe. Things you can hold are always far more private than invisible waves.

The first casket hit its mark almost perfectly, crash landing against a parked car in the suburbs of Moscow. The second one left a large hole in the middle of a field in Gotland. They were found, respectively, by the owner of the car and by a sheep herder.

The content of the messages was the following:

Hello comrades of the USSR!
I am Dnye. You already know about me, but I feel like I must say a few things about myself. I do not want you or the human peoples harmed. I only want a place to live in, I can survive in almost any enviornment as long as there is space for me to root into and a minimal ammount of resources. Your planet is beset by what I suspect are enemies at all sides. I am asking you to welcome me, and I will be forever in debt of humanity if you do so. I would also like to send a ship to your meeting in outer space. It is the only way I could attend. Answer this as soon as you can, please.

Hello friends of Scandinavia!
My name, as you discovered is Dnye. I must tell you that I do not want to harm you or other humans. I am old, and in my life I have studied the history of two sapient civilizations for a long time. War isn't nice. I only ask you to allow me to live in a plot of land large enough for my survival, in any of the barren, unused lands your world has. I will remain in debt to humanity, and a staunch ally of my saviours. You are surrounded by enemies, and I could provide aid that could prove to be your saving grace. I would also wish to attend the meeting you propose, but I fear that the soviets might attempt to shoot down my ship. Could you please assure me that It won't happen? I wouldn't want to cause any trouble

Meanwhile, in the insides of Dnye, its factories churned.

[Plzen]

Secretary-General's Office, Rådshuset,
Stockholm, Nordic Commonwealth

"I don't care how well-meaning this Dnye is," grumbled the Minister of Defence, "these bombardments have got to stop."

The Secretary-General shrugged.

"We will make sure to include that sentiment in our next message, then. This is, in every sense of that word, first contact. Cultures are clashing, and what we see as obvious, the Dnye might not. There is no point in making enemies over small matters of principle, so unless we suffer substantive damage from these acts let us refrain from drastic comments."

"That still leaves us," pointed out the Minister of Social Services, "without a real way to contact it in return. The only way for us to respond is via radio."

"At least this time we will use military equipment," noted the Minister of Defence. "It is a private message, not a broadcast. Focused radio might still be intercepted, but hopefully it will not be as open as our last broadcast."

"At the very minimum, indeed," commented the Secretary-General, "we should try to keep it out of the hands of the press. At least for a couple hours."

"That all being said, though," pushed the Minister of Foreign Affairs, "we still haven't decided on the content of the message. Clearly, its immediate desires are two. It desires a safe plot of land on which to live, and do not much care about its quality. This we knew already, and I believe we were contemplating Greenland. I think it is time for us to give much more serious thought to this issue."

"The second issue is, it concerned regarding its physical security should it accept any meeting with us, on our soil. The threats of the Soviet Union are affecting their decisions," continued the Minister, with not a small degree of frustration and suppressed anger. "Any response that we send will have to touch on both issues, at least tangentially."

---

Concentrated Broadcast,
From somewhere in Iceland, Nordic Commonwealth

I, State Minister Reynir Jón Þórirsson, greets the Dnye.

I have received your communications, and have noted your desire to settle yourself down on a suitable area of land. After careful deliberation of this proposal with my fellow members in the Government of the Nordic Commonwealth, we have come to the conclusion that it is possible that the Nordic Commonwealth may have a solution to your problem.

The Commonwealth is in the possession of Greenland, a moderately-sized, frozen landmass near the northern pole of our planet. It is largely uninhabited, and hence your presence there is unlikely to trouble our normal activities. I and my fellow members of the Government are fully willing to offer to you a significant portion of this landmass on which you may build your new home.

This offer is, however, circumstantial. The island is largely uninhabited, but it is of considerable scientific and biological value. The Nordic Council desires reasonable assurances that the local environment and ecology of the island will not be drastically altered by your presence, and that your establishment on this landmass will not cause undue changes to the chemical composition of the planetary atmosphere.

I would also like to request, furthermore, that your preferred method of communication, that of launching projectiles against the surface of our planet, cease. On our planet and in our collective memory, the rapid launch of projectiles is synonymous to and characteristic of hostile action, and I strongly desire for there to be no misunderstanding of intent between our respective interests.

I am pleased that you have decided to consider our offer of a joint meeting in Bouvetøya, during which we will be able to discuss these and many other issues in much greater detail. I am well aware of your concerns regarding interference from other, less friendly polities on this very same planet during your visit. On this, unfortunately, I am not able to offer assurances. Although it is neither customary nor appropriate for the Soviet Union to take any actions which you may fear, nations have acted in violation of international law in the past.

You may, however, rest assured that while you are on Earth on our invitation, you will be under our guarantees of security, and the Nordic Commonwealth will seek to protect you from and respond proactively to any hostile acts from the Soviet Union.

I look forwards to meeting you, or at least a part of you, very soon.

[Yekrenia]

Captain Paula Gurgavinca VI
Lansa Blanca Class Cruiser - (NLD Fidil d’Papulus)
Earth Orbit

Ligerian-Kazeri born captain Paula Gurgavinca VI was not at all surprise to find that Planet Eden’s inhabitants, the Homo Sapiens, would reply so technical and frank. Of course, this was nothing new whenever it came to discovering new species, since suspicion and distrust was to be expected in first contacts. But the response that one of Eden’s nations ... Russia, or Soviet Union to be precise, was something that was all too familiar to Paula herself.

From a lone satellite transmission, the Russians were requesting that the Pallidan ships not pass beyond Eden’s moon, or it is considered an act of war; however, the Russians made one strict exception. Given two days time only, the Russians were going to allow the Pallidans to lend over a representative to come down to Eden before some kind of council or meeting. Before going down to the surface, the representative had to have a list of reasons and objectives as to why the Pallidans are among the Star System of Eden, which also needed to be sent by satellite as well.

But there was a problem that changed the name of the game...

“Sirs, we’re receiving another transmission for the surface. It isn’t the Russians, Chinese, or English.” Paris reported upon appearing his avatar on holographic display.

“Show us.” Paula said with a curt nod, whom was promptly greeted with the following message:

We greet our visitors from the stars.

I am State Minister Reynir Jón Þórirsson, speaking on behalf of the Nordic Commonwealth. We are a free polity of twenty-seven million individuals, who value above all our ability to shape our own destinies as we wish. Although English is not my native tongue, I broadcast in it as it is known that you have decrypted this language.

First of all, permit me to greet you all to the Sol System. Earth welcomes you, and the Commonwealth anticipates a long period of successful co-operation between our respective polities, and we have hopes that you have arrived on Earth to find the same.

Second, we wish to convey that the Commonwealth exists on the basis of certain inviolable principles, and that we expect that in any co-operation between our respective polities, you will respect these principles in your dealings with ourselves. These principles are best expressed by the Charter of the Nordic Council, by which we attempt to regulate ourselves, the text of which has been attached as an appendix to this broadcast.

Third, for the purposes of establishing more permanent and reliable relations and channels of discourse between ourselves and your interests, we invite representatives from all interests gathered here at Sol to Earth.

The meeting shall be held at Bouvetøya, the location of which has been attached as an appendix to this broadcast. Should the physical and chemical conditions of this island be unsuitable for you, please respond with details of that incompatibility. If individual units of your respective interests are significantly larger than human beings, the biological details to which has been attached as a second appendix to this broadcast, please send an autonomous unit or a secure communications device that you will be able to express your interests through, and which we can reasonably accommodate. Finally, we request that any landings be announced well beforehand.

This message will be repeated in the official languages of the Commonwealth, repeated again in English, and concluded with two copies of the aforementioned appendices.

I, and by extension the Nordic Commonwealth, sincerely await your response.

“Where was the sent?”

“Northwest of the Soviet Union borders, somewhere in another nation named .... uh, Sweden.”

“S-we-den?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll keep them on hold, we have to deal with Russia and the others.” Luis interrupted sternly, “What else have you...”

“Uh... whoa!” Paris exclaimed as a new transmission suddenly came through, but it was not from Eden, “What the hell?”

“What now?” Paula barked as she watched the AI avatar on holographic display.

“One of our cruisers have picked up a new transmission, and it isn’t from the Homo Sapiens.”

“Again, just show us, don’t tell us.”

Paris promptly morphed and show a new transmission provided by the following, translated by Rail and the other ship AIs:

To The Most Honourable Commander of the Pallidian Fleet: Captain Urilsoron Komid'Gilas, Commanding Officer of the Elystimari Expeditionary Star Ship Inquisitive sends Greetings:

As Skylarks arise from forest
And dance-squids above the sea
So too are all called to the vineyard
And gather what we need

Come, and join us in a harvest!
Should a sheaperd quarrel with another's sheep?*
After all, united effort itself rewards
Those who work together to reap

Fate(Varnaya**) spun her cloaks
Encrusted with threads of ruby gold
Ingniting fires of opportunities
And banishing intentions harsh and cold

For as thine bodies are blessed
With mind, spirit, and heart
Let us now forge this new path
Together in friendship, rather than apart

“God almighty, we’re getting responses back and forth.” Captain Paula grumbled, surprised that there be so many messages being sent, both from humans and other ETs, “Looks like they want their slice of the action here too.”

“Multa muy tã. (Much very so.)” Luis pondered in his native Ligerian tongue as he read the poetic transmission. (English Translation temporarily disabled for special effects).

“Sa labitía na sapian nuva advanus appitas.”

“Si, passin asar avas multa muy quasitia.”

Luis and Paula were quiet for a moment before Luis called out to the holographic display, “Raul, Paris.”

“Si.” Paris and Raul’s avatars appeared on display.

“Prãhnal simul ninti para Russagir, y ... Ilistimari.”

“Si, magnarisip.” Paris and Raul replied back, before they disappeared and then momentarily returning in the form of two responses, one for the Soviets, and the other the ... Elystimari:

To the leaders of the Soviet Union

We, the Pallidans, hear you loud and through. War is not among our interest indeed, nor are we looking for another home. Certainly, you already know that your homeworld contains desposits of quantium in locations not to be disclosed on this message; however, there are matters more urgent we like to regard.

According to the cyber and radio traffic among your satellites as well as the others, we come to find that you - humanity as a whole at the same time - are caught in the crosshairs for the pursuit of quantium. We may not be looking for war, but we are certainly not about to let anyone turn you against us. We are here to get these xenos off your doorsteps, refill on quantium, then make our way back home; however, that is where further will have to be discussed in person.

We’re not exactly here to persuade humanity to trust us, but we need your help as much we need yours. You can’t fight these xenos alone, and nor can you escape from them. Subsequently, it is our best interest that we will be sending down a representive among our fleet to discuss further matters with your leaders. Unfortunately, for further security in transmission, the time will not be disclosed here - so remain on standby shortly until our representative has arrived safely.

Yours Sincerely,

Petty Admiral Luis Amantius II
&
Captain Paula Gurgavinca VI

To Captain Urilsoron Komid'Gilas, Commanding Officer of the Elystimari Expeditionary Star Ship

Under the stars gazes a noble wonder
Amid the beauty in the stranger
And the somber expanses beyond
We give you our sincere spectacle

There in the meadows awaited
Thirty lances around together
Forty dozen flowers all around
Eighty bees all in gospel labor

Whether there be light or dark
The lances await for those in need
If not worthy to comply in stead
They comply, however, to in need

The lances do not comply so easily
Nobility is in their purest blood
So much as it’s owners are so as well
Nor will the bees shed their flowers

As long as one does not tread too close
The lances shalt remain in eternal rest
Nature kept all alone to itself as well
Only until the poor and sick cry from now

One, however, can send a little bird
Nature whom may welcome openly
Happy that the worm hasn’t turned
And where the worm could be shared

Yours Sincerely,

Petty Admiral Luis Amantius II