The control station and nearby launch station were abuzz with activity. To the onlookers from a distance the site and even it's technical staff looked like no more than insects rushing to and from their work-stations. On the launch-pad itself, a singular probe sat ready to deploy. Engrim* 1 was a short and ugly little construct, but the engineers whom had spent countless hours developing and constructing her had reassured their superiors it would fly true.
"Command,Control, commencing final checklists confirm" A filth-encrusted Sularian requested. The small reptilian sat hunched over at a console not far from the launchpad itself in a reinforced bunker to assist in the calculations and controls to ensure Engrim 1 would exit the atmosphere with minimal complications before the remote systems took over. "Control, Command, confirmed, proceed with FCL." "Acknolwedge Command, Flight-systems...operational...Flight trajectory calculations...." he paused as he finished quadruple checking his work on the paper beside him."Calculations confirmed satisfactory, secondary flight patterns uploaded, removing fueling; loading clamps and walkways..." A loud hiss and K-THUNK finished outside as the scaffolding and fueling pipes were removed and retracted to their respective grooves in the launchpad for re-use. "Command, Control, retraction complete, confirm from your position?" a rapid series of 5 keys in his comms headset confirmed "Understood, Control commencing final launch countdown" he added with finality. A series of switches were pulled, highlighting the 2-hour countdown. During this time the star-craft's engines slowly whined to life like a slowly awakening beast before it's engines growled and began to glow in final preparation. "Command, Control, Final redundant flight-checks complete. Liftoff in..." 5...4.....3.....2.....1...and in that moment, the Mizarian Collective's first exploratory probe rushed through the atmosphere at hundreds of miles an hour. Onlookers screamed, whistled and shrieked in joy at the hope that their voice might be heard somewhere across the galaxy.
As the probe detached from it's atmosphere breaching stage, it's simple ion-based engines slowly hummed to life, preparing for it's several-hundred year journey. As the secondary stage finally expended it's fuel loadout, it's detachment marked the first beginnings of a true attempt at a Mizarian search for Foreign governing bodies. The process would repeat several more times, each probe carrying a simple message:
ATTENTION ALL SENTIENT LIFE-FORMS RECEIVING THESE COMMUNICATIONS, ADDITIONAL SENTIENT LIFE QUERYING TO CONTACT FOREIGN LIFE PRESENT IN THE UNIVERSE, NON-HOSTILE CONTACT SOUGHT PLEASE RESPOND TO THESE COMMUNICATIONS TO REPEAT
The message would repeat near endlessly for years to come across a series of exploratory probes. Attached to the crude devices were a series of equally primitive attempts at universal translation devices. These devices would attempt to scan and redesign the transmissions into readable information via mathematical and visual interpretations equivalent to those found aboard anomalous objects' databases (Should one be accessible and information readable). For centuries now the Mizarian collective had finally come to rest within the Sollux system. Only a handful of the original Mizarians to flee enslavement remain alive today to retell the horrors of what they formerly endured. While foreign interactions had occurred within this massive migratory fleet, open communications with foreign governments had been (startlingly) non-existent. As such, the call was put out to announce Mizarian intentions of peaceful interaction with the galaxy.
