Hic Sunt Dracones - The Monsters and the Myths
When the Cosmic Hierophancy’s First Speaker, Asteraceae, announced to the Galaxy of the Xyn desire for a ‘inter-species science expedition’, many felt an innate urge; that spark of sentience, the curiosity that transcends us all. Bold explorers and navigators, men and women (and beings of neither simplistic classification!) of science, signed themselves up for what was promised to be “a delving into the once-known. A rediscovery for the galaxy at large.”
She promised tales of scientific discovery of an unparalleled abundance as the team was to investigate one of the Xyn’s old worlds, a colony that numerous recently discovered records had brought to life. The planet of Pargoen in the Skies of White System, within the hotly contested ‘Troika’s Gambit’.
The delicate political situation, so famed across the Galaxy, is what resulted in the First Speaker opening this venture to the wider cosmos. It is also what caused her to enter her week of forced isolation, as the Xyn public voted almost uniformly against her decision. Solanaceae never made his opinions known, but several Xyn have claimed he defiantly warned that depending on the discovery “every race and their fingers will want what belongs to us.”
With a dire political situation and tensions in the air, nonetheless, the team was assembled. And are ready, of all race and creed, to venture together in an expedition to reclaim a lost world. What secrets will it hold? What is there to rediscover? And what of the Xyn, speculated to live there dormantly?
She promised tales of scientific discovery of an unparalleled abundance as the team was to investigate one of the Xyn’s old worlds, a colony that numerous recently discovered records had brought to life. The planet of Pargoen in the Skies of White System, within the hotly contested ‘Troika’s Gambit’.
The delicate political situation, so famed across the Galaxy, is what resulted in the First Speaker opening this venture to the wider cosmos. It is also what caused her to enter her week of forced isolation, as the Xyn public voted almost uniformly against her decision. Solanaceae never made his opinions known, but several Xyn have claimed he defiantly warned that depending on the discovery “every race and their fingers will want what belongs to us.”
With a dire political situation and tensions in the air, nonetheless, the team was assembled. And are ready, of all race and creed, to venture together in an expedition to reclaim a lost world. What secrets will it hold? What is there to rediscover? And what of the Xyn, speculated to live there dormantly?
The 'Forward Unto Dawn', Interstellar Winds en route to the 'Skies of White System'
Contested Space: 'Troika's Gambit.'
The communal area aboard the ‘Forward Unto Dawn’ had been artficially created to resemble a perfect medium of what most species would consider aesthetically pleasing and practical. In this regard it could be said to compromise on a lot. Its furnishes, far from the spartan simplicity favoured by the Xyn, carried features such as a bar, numerous relaxation stations and music players. Its design feature was very much like Amity’s: sleek, stellar, stark white and light bright blues, all operated from sensor. There was, however, a large spacious centre near the starboard window -- a meditation circle. However, the most prominent feature of the room was its large table: a holotable, to be precise. This was of Xyn design through and through. It looked almost like it had been cut from a stump of a tree and sanded and sealed with a glaze, but a quick knock would confirm it wasn’t a natural wood. With a quick swish of his fingers, Carota had the gathered audience watching a message pre-recorded for them by Asteraceae.
She opened with a bow. "I begin with a solemn thank you on behalf of not just the Xyn, but on all Galactic Polities. Thank you for your anticipation and commitment to this mission."
“Pargoen is a paradoxical symbol for our people” the hologram of the First Speaker signed. “You might call it hope or despair, honour and failure, what once was and what can now be. There are few words in the verbal speech I know that can convey the feeling; but the human term nostalgia might suffice here.” Her movements were fluid and graceful, her arms flowing in colour that defined the very words and their intended meaning. Her digits danced a mating dance of complexity; often times mirroring the digits on the other hand and at other times completely unique and free of this reflection.
“Understand that the work you are undergoing here is… being watched. Not physically, no. But… emotionally, by countless of my own people wondering if this venture will bring about understandings of our people who…” her arms fell flat to her sides, which Carota translated in slightly lagging real time to silence. “Who might not have made it out of their slumber. Or whatever indeed happened to them.”
“I say this not to distract you from your work, nor to add more pressure, nor to entice you or sway you or to even make you understand why we Xyn lay claim to this part of the” her fingers tented, her shoulders locked and a sheen of yellow covered her skin for but a second before it reverted: “Troika’s Gambit.” Had she a mouth, it would have been spat out. “I tell you this for context. For understanding. Pargoen is a mystery to everyone, but less of a mystery to us. And we are a fairly realistic people when it comes down to it: it is incredibly likely that you will come across things we are not expecting. Pargoen’s history is lost to us, but its minor details remain.”
“To that end, you are scheduled to be landing near the capital of the world; a fairly novel settlement that directly translates to ‘Weather the Storm’. Ironic. From there, well, your captain shall lead you and defend you to do your work, extract your information and uncover the mysteries of a world lost to time.” As her natural colour returned to her, the sparse clothing favoured by the Xyn became more apparent. At first glance, to most outsiders, she would not resemble a typical politician. But ornaments became known. A single roughly cut gem rested on an iron ring wrapped around her forehead. It was embellished in blues and greens, speckled in reds and from certain angles emitted the colours of the cosmos. All along her right arm, there were bands -- sixteen in total -- of a variety of metals like bronze, copper, gold, platinum and silver. Most plainly, a simple sash with no words draped her form.
“I shall leave you with one parting gift,” had she a mouth, it would have smiled resplendently, “a poem composed by one of our ancients, Cyperus Papyrus, about the planet. Forgive me, please, if it does not translate well into your speech.”
‘A speck in the cosmos,
Lightly coloured
Blue and green
Like so many others,
Yet unique
And I wish to see it all.’
The recorded holographic projection of Asteraceae bowed. “Thank you, scientists. The Xyn people are in your debt for accepting this project. I shall await for your return as heroes!”
With a blue flicker of light, Carota ceased his translation and bowed similarly. Unlike most Xyn, Carota was fully clothed. He wore a pristine uniform whilst aboard the ship, it could almost be mistaken for something out of human admiralty. Fully white-grey, with pauldrons and heavy gloves. Most of his face was wrapped in what appeared to be bandages, with only slits for his eyes visible. He turned from the projection in the centre of the holo-table, to the other scientists and began to speak. This time, unlike speaking to them with his hands as the First Speaker had, he spoke to them all at once. His voice, if it could be called that, was soothe and crisp. As robotic as an organic voice could possibly sound. Produced not by chords but by his very mind. “I know we’ve only met intermittently, either through a mutual respect of our work or by chance in other endeavours -- but not to mention our rotation period! -- but I must echo the words of respect given to you by my First Speaker. Thank you all for coming, and let us make history. If any of you have any questions about Xyn history -- specifically about this world, Pargoen -- I shall do it my best to answer before we land. If I am correct we should be lea--”
His voice was cut off from the PA system aboard the ship. A novelty and necessity not often needed about the Xyn vessel. The voice of Bhyt, their captain, rang out: “I’d like to inform all of you that we shall be exiting ‘the Winds’ and arriving at the Skies of White system in t-minus 2 galactic standard minutes. From there, it shouldn’t be too long until we’re planet side.” A heavy accent carried the voice, not that it would be picked up on most translators. What could not be avoided were the sounds of the spraying of water flecked intermittently between words.
A short while later another voice was heard by all, but this was mental: a dozen private conversations all about the same thing. It was the captain of the mission, Panax Ginseng: "I know this does not need to be reitorated, but please remember: safety first and research second. Your life is more valuable than your work. Once we land stick close to our perimeter and conduct your work only in areas that we have deemed safe. We understand that you might not all be able to work at the same time and thus we can only ask for you to remain patient, level-handed and calm." It was silent for about a minute before she added a thank you.