Omoikane 09 - Damyip 18.3.5
After the visit to the Governor, we visited Damyip 18.3.5. They were in a Federation-style prefabbed building not far away from the Boa-Olavax building.
Just inside the door was a receptionist’s desk with a humanoid woman manning it. She was day-glo safety orange, with lustrous black hair. She was wearing a business ensemble. I wasn’t too sure about the style of it, maybe Lefyt?
She smiled happily and greeted us "Captain Hailey. Commander O'Keefe, Lt. Darvon-Ahk, Lt. Kat-oh-lo. Welcome. I am Damyip 18.3.5.4. We're glad you're here."
"You're a Damyip?" I asked
She had an amused face "You were expecting someone mechanical? I can summon one of the guardians, if you like."
Kat-oh-lo said "Sorry, I thought you knew. They learned how to build people-bots a few years back. If you didn't know what to look for, you couldn't tell them apart from normal people. It was a shock when we learned how many of them there were among us."
I looked back at the young lady at the reception desk "Orange?" No one would mistake that for a Lefyt skin tone.
"The R.I.s encouraged us to make a clear identity of our own." She made a thoughtful face and her skin took up the golden tone of the Lefyt people. Then she changed back. "No one else that we know of has this skin coloring, so we can be clearly identified."
"Neat," I said. It was "How many colors can you change into?"
She seemed resigned "Only a few. We're working on a new skin type that can display more colors. Sort of like your earth octopus."
"Alright. Your Boss asked us to come by and talk to him?"
She thought about it "Boss. Interesting construction," She stood up, "Please come with me."
We went through a hallway into the back. There were three humanoids. One Lefyt person, I think. One Damyip person, and one human. Also, there were five - Guardians. They looked like humanoids wearing armor. They had phaser rifles. The humanoid people worked at doing whatever administration they were doing. The Guardians stood at attention along the walls. We greeted them and continued after Miss 18.3.5.4.
We went down a stairway into a basement. It was a long stairway, the basement was deep. The walls were thick.
The basement was generic. Over there was the power supply, a small Federation fusion reactor, and backup batteries. Over here was storage for furniture and stuff useful but not currently in use. There was an industrial replicator.
In the back, in a thick-walled vault was the computer set up. Smaller than a Starship main computer it was a generic Federation administration model.
Along one wall were device racks. Damyip 18.3.5.4 pointed to a particular thick gray box among the devices. "This is Damyip 18.3.5, my boss."
It spoke using a generic Federation computer voice. "Thank you for coming. Please brief 18.3.5.4, and the rest of my team. I will hear whatever they hear and see whatever they see. We are curious about your recent travels."
Kat-oh-lo said "Wow. I've never seen a real Damyip before."
"Interesting," 18.3.5 replied, "Does this mean you consider the Infiltrators and Guardians less real Damyip?"
"Uhhhh," Kat-h-lo discovered his language wasn't as precise as he thought it was.
"If you don't mind," The gray box said "I'd like to contact you later and ask you questions about your thinking and your impression of us. You just revealed an interesting perception issue we'd like to know more about."
"Sure," Kat-oh-lo said
"Do all of you consider my sub-units less valid than I?"
I squinted as I tried to work out how I felt about it "Uhhh, I think the rank issue might look like it, but I don't think I know enough to really... know."
Tillean chirped "Nope! I'm reveling in the weird."
18.3.5.4 grinned "Thank you."
"Infiltrators?" I asked
"Their old purpose. We're working on a term congruent with their current function."
"I like Social Unit, myself." 18.3.5.4 said
I replied, "Then that's what we'll go with until the official determination comes down."
"It's not inaccurate." 18.3.5 said.
"Let’s head up to the briefing room, and we can start the briefing." 18.3.5.4
"Thank you," 18.3.5 said. It sounded relieved.
-*-
We gave the Damyip everything we could. After all, they're strong allies in the area. Working on Federation Membership.
"Oh, Dear." 18.3.5.4 said, "Between the Dragons and the Shard, this area is not in great shape."
"I believe the Shard can be reasonable, even if their opinion of themselves is a little inflated. I'll be recommending a diplomatic mission to the Shard as soon as I can give a full report," I said. "As for the Dragons - They are social and can communicate. So all is not lost there. We might be able to reach some understanding."
The Social Units of the Damyip were unhappy. "Our efforts here are in the early stages. The Boa-Olavax are not where we'd like them to be, defensively."
"You want to use the Boa-Olavax as a buffer?"
One of the Guardians spoke. Its voice was electronic "If it comes to direct fighting, we expect to take the lead. It is better for us to take the brunt of warfare than unique, fragile organics. But we would not be good friends if we didn't help them prepare to survive. If the situation becomes one of diplomacy and political tension, then your people are better at that, and we will support your efforts."
18.3.5.4 said "If a straight ahead fight starts in the next two years, we will lose, and be hurled back from Boa-Olavax territory into the Bendari Empire and Lefyt Space. We are not adequately prepared at this time."
I sighed. "I hope the military planning will not be relevant. I hope we can make diplomacy work here."
"Agreed."
-*-
Yoloia Said "Let’s get off here. They have contact with Orions not far away. We can get back to the real world."
Leebja, her niece, said, "I want to go with the Magic Antelopes!"
The rest of the Greens looked like they agreed.
Li'ira said "If you stay with us, eventually we will return to Oz. But it might take a long time. You're welcome if you behave properly."
Yoloia sighed and gripped the bridge of her nose "It’s the Federation. All laws and orders, and up in your business."
"You think Xagord wasn't up in our business?"
Yoloia just blinked and stared at the wall. Her efforts to liberate her sister were a complete failure. "I'm sorry. But I don't trust them."
Li'ira said "Any time we reach a civilized world, you're free to leave. I won't keep any of you prisoner."
Yoloia glared at her "Your opinion of civilized and mine aren't the same."
Li'ira smiled "True. We don't even have any agonizers on the ship."
Leebja wanted to redirect the conversation "Magic. Antelopes."
"You haven't been letting those things into your brain, have you?" Yoloia was concerned.
"Healers. The girls need mental healers."
"We all do," Li'ira said.
"They take over your brain!" Yoloia said "They twist you into loyal servants! They took over the Scion of House Genalin! They used his greens to try to assassinate a Romulan Ambassador!"
Li'ira said "I have some experience with the Ane. They do not make us into their slaves. The worst they do is inflict their sense of humor on you."
Yoloia gestured around "Yet, here we are. On an Ane-built ship. With people loyal to the Ane, serving the Ane Counsellor. Or should I call her the Captain of the ship? I thought the rumors were wrong! I thought there was no way the Humans would let the Ane take over the Federation. All the stories about the Secret Ane Order. The Blue Fleet."
"We have psi shields," Li'ira said.
"What?"
"We have psi shields. If you're concerned about the Ane twisting your brain, then wear a psi shield."
"They'll have some secret back door."
"You don't know what you're talking about. And you have no idea what you're about to unleash. How can I convince you that the Ane do not want to dominate your brain?"
"What do you mean? Are the Ane going to eliminate me?" Yoloia began to get genuinely concerned.
"No," Li'ira grated "They're going to start making FUN of you."
That got a reaction from the other adult greens. "That seems to bother you."
Li'ira went over to a display screen "Display the standard word Founder." It displayed the word. "This word means the father of a new civilization or nation or organization. People put up statues of the founders of their nations."
"Now show the word Flounder. And a picture of a Flounder."
The word and the fish appeared.
"This is a type of Earth Fish called a Flounder. I'm told that it's an ugly fish."
"It is!" Leebja helpfully offered.
"Show them Admiral Hailey’s reaction to the Statue. Go ahead and show them!"
The screen showed a man in an older Starfleet Uniform walking along the street in the emerald city.
"The Captain?" One of the Greens asked
"No, his older brother, watch."
The man came into a courtyard and stopped with a surprised look on his face. The camera changed to one looking over his shoulder.
There was a giant brass fish with the label "Our Flounder"
"Freeze frame." Li'ira said, "Look at the windows."
"Are those Ane?" Yoloia asked
"Yes. Note the statue. That's hand-made. They didn't have many replicators at the time. A team of people beat brass with hammers into the shape of this ugly fish! For this pun!"
"The Ane don’t want to rule the galaxy. They want to tell it awful puns and terrible jokes!"
Yoloia blinked "What?"
"They're ALIENS. We can understand them. You can get to know the Ane. But they're not like us. What they want from life isn't what a Human or an Orion wants. They have power and wealth. To them, this is a means to an end. That's why Jay and I run this ship. For the Ane, it’s good enough that we drive them around so they can meet people.
They're people, so they're all over the place. There are a few Ane Captains. But by far they like to have us along as friends to do all this with."
"They want to lick noses that no Ane has licked, before!"
Yoloia was confused and a little defensive "You make them sound almost clownish."
"In some ways they are. All this conspiracy, brain-eating secret masters stuff is what an Orion in an Ane-suit would do. The way it works with the Ane, in reality, is different and weirder than any conspiracy theorist is going to come up with."
Loyoja said "Leebja and I are going with Li'ira and the Ane. The Magic Antelopes."
Yoloia fought her own reaction "O..okay."
"You're welcome as long as you don't damage anything or anyone," Li'ira said to Yoloia.
"So, less mind control, more of a cult with puns," Yoloia challenged
"That's uncomfortably close," Li'ira said.
"But I don't have to join the cult?"
"Nope. You don't have to do anything. Lounge around. Play games. But... every textbook in the Federation is here. Every piece of music we can put our hands on. All the video, plays, books, holonovels. You'll never live long enough to consume it all. Find out who you are when you don't have to watch your back every minute."
Geogga, a green orion man rescued from elswhere on the slaver said "That sounds lovely. I will take you up on your offer."
"We actually have some reading material on this. You aren't the first batch of Greens to be rescued."
-*-
Li'ira left the Greens Quarters. She didn't tell them that she was barely ahead of them in reading up on the manuals for how to set up a "green gang."
An Anelilog was leaning casually against the bulkhead, wearing a black fedora with holes for her horns and sunglasses tailored for the Aneilog face.
She was whistling a tune.
Li'ira wrestled with it. But she gave in to curiosity. "What's the song?"
**Secret Agent Ane**
Li'ira carefully kept a straight face "Carry on." She marched on towards her own quarters.
The Ane enjoyed her reaction anyway.
-*-
Later looking over the scans of the Boa-Olavax, the Pequedela and the Fuufta, the Ane murmured to themselves
**More human hands.**
**A lot of the people in this end of the galaxy look like earth animals altered into humanoid form.**
**You know what it means.**
**Someone was a furry.**
**And not a terribly creative one.**
**Are we going to tell them?**
**Not unless they ask directly. It's not like we know who did this or can speak for them.**
**We'll keep looking. Somewhere, this crazy agent left more evidence or a signature.**
Omoikane - The Sexatar Sector
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jayphailey
- Posts: 902
- Joined: Tue May 29, 2018 7:50 pm
Re: Omoikane - The Sexatar Sector
Spoiler - It was Mumra
Re: Omoikane - The Sexatar Sector
You already posted that part. Rishian people maker.
-- The Innkeeper
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jayphailey
- Posts: 902
- Joined: Tue May 29, 2018 7:50 pm
Re: Omoikane - The Sexatar Sector
I hadn't established that at this part in the story.
Why all the animal folk in its reason had hand more or less identical to human hands was something the Ane noticed and were looking into through the Omoikane
Why all the animal folk in its reason had hand more or less identical to human hands was something the Ane noticed and were looking into through the Omoikane
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jayphailey
- Posts: 902
- Joined: Tue May 29, 2018 7:50 pm
Omoikane 10 - Boa-Olavax
Omoikane 10 - Boa-Olavax
We entered the Boa-Olavax system.
It was sprawling. They had asteroids further away from their primary than Earth, but plenty of them, and a couple of good mining planets.
The system was littered with the usual stuff you see in built-up, civilized star systems. There was their main military base, surrounded by military starships. There were big solar-powered refineries, turning sunlight and deuterium into starship fuel.
There was a lot of traffic. We weren't asked to turn control of the Omoikane over to traffic control, but we were given a clear route.
We passed a huge horseshoe. Their main civilian space city. It was humming with activity and commercial ships coming and going.
We made our way to a big tree.
Literally, a huge cylindrical core branched off into branches and boughs. It was more regular than a real tree, but it was clear where they got the inspiration.
Usually, trees are half buried, so you don't see that the root systems mirror the branches above ground.
Their Starship Tree looked like two top halves of a tree. On the furthest extensions of the limbs, solar panels, heat radiators and sensor arrays all looked sort of like leaves, but more regular and technological.
It was a sizable installation, rivaling a lot of starbases and spacedocks in the Federation. It wasn't as big as a builder station, but then what was?
As we approached, we slowed down a great deal and picked our way through the equatorial gap where the leaves left an opening.
Some of the branches had sub-branches where ships were docked. Mostly Boa-Oalavax ships, but there were a couple of Bendarri cruisers and some Orion ships there.
Some of the Docking areas were taken up by cocoons - the Boa-Olavax created large spun cocoons for doing heavy repair work on ships. The material, a sort of high-tech flexible metallic fabric wasn't as tough as hull metal. But it could be rolled into interesting shapes and fixed with some high-tech epoxy-looking stuff to make a temporary air pocket to allow a crew to work in comfort. They had standardized cargo locks incorporated into the structure, so materials could come and go.
It was interesting, and pretty. A starship tree with starship fruit in various stages of ripeness.
At our destination, there was a Damyip transport. The Damyip liked a curved ellipsoid as their ship basis. They had a new run of ships that looked like a mix of Damyip and Federation technology.
This one was the front half of a curved ellipsoid, with a spine frame extending aft. It had an engine pod on the back where new warp drives and impulse drives looked very Federation.
It was labeled "DYP 14.8.10.2.45", in Federation script right where the NCC numbers should go.
Along the ventral side, cargo pods. The Federation default pattern.
Those would be our new Impulse drives.
We slid up to the dock, very slowly and carefully, talking with station control very clearly the whole way. We got to the right spot and came to a stop relative to the station itself. Tractor beams towed us into contact. There was an adapter arm that fit our ship and the fittings for external support mode. And docking adapters that fit our hatches and airlocks.
All of this was made of Damyip materials, to Federation specifications.
"USS Omoikane, welcome to the Starship Tree at Saukassas. We're glad to have you. Engage support mode."
"Engaging support mode," I said "Thank you Starship Tree Control. We turn control over to you."
"Roger, Omoikane. Enjoy yer stay."
We'd have to turn off the whole power system to replace the damaged Impulse drive units, so there was no help for it.
But it bugged my inner control freak.
-*-
The Bendarri and Boa-Olavax delegations finished up our presentation looking grim and a little tired.
"Well, that's interesting news," The Bendarri Captain tried to sound a positive note.
"I plan to call for a Federation Diplomatic Mission to the Shard to negotiate treaties regularizing our contact," I said.
"How soon do ya think we can expect the Shard or the Dragons to appear in our space?" The Boa-Olavax General asked.
"Well, I'd expect scouts from the Shard to be along pretty soon. They seemed very interested in Oron and the Lefyt. They're also not dummies, so they'll want to gain information before planning any sizable policy about this area."
I continued "As for the Dragons, you're at the extreme end of their range. The fact that we haven't heard of them already is good news. I suspect they won't rouse themselves for a long journey without a good reason."
The expressions on the Boa-Olavax faces were not promising.
"Computer" General Fourty-Five said, "Call up Files in the X Zero Five folder."
"State Authorization." The Boa Olavax computer replied.
General Fourty-Five did so.
The files showed wrecks encountered by the Boa-Olavax Space Navy and free-lance scouts along the spinward frontier.
One was a Shard ship, one was an Agusoapan raider. One was a Boa-Olavax scout ship. One was an adventuring mercenary ship. One was completely unknown.
All were torn up, andhad large parts of their hulls missing, in damage patterns that were mysterious to the Boa-Olavax. Until now.
These were all encountered in what the Boa-Olavax considered their Spinward frontier.
A good deal closer than I thought the Dragons were.
"Aw, hell," I said.
"Our ability to reinforce this area is limited," Captain Dorali, the Bendarri said. "We are currently engaged against the Thasites on our rimward frontier. Although the fighting is low intensity, the Thasites are numerous."
Lotara was the name of the Damyip Social Unit. It was her nickname. I didn't cope well remembering the Damyip number designations in practice. The Social units liked to take up humanoid-sounding names.
Lotara said, "We will do what we can, to assist our friends."
"I will be recommending that the Federation send ships. But I can't make any guarantees. We're spread very thin."
General Fourty-Five said "It’s hard to make plans based on well-meaning assertions. We'll have to plan as if you're not coming until you get here."
I nodded. It was discouraging.
-*-
In the old detective holo novels I liked, it was called working the phones. I was on the horn to Starfleet Command, reporting what we'd found and asking for backup.
It was slow going. We were far away from Earth and Starfleet Command.
My doorbell chimed. "Come," said
The door opened to Tippalan.
She had something in her mouth. **For our friends,** She thought at me.
I got up and took the thing. It was a memory unit. Several isolinear chips in an array.
I plugged it into my terminal.
It was technical readouts. I squinted at it.
Very very good Klingon shielding. I didn't even know they could make stuff like this. It equaled the best the Federation could manage.
Anti-Proton weapon specs. These were wild technology. I'd never seen the like. They fired a phased beam of antiprotons. They were noted as being inspired by Iconian technology, but the components were Federation-ish. It seemed they'd be decent anti-dragon armaments.
Advanced power systems. These could channel large amounts of energy without overheating or breaking down. They were the equal of the systems on the Omoikane but from a different tech base.
**It's from your brothers in the Fulcrum. We're not cleared to share Federation technology. But non-Federation tech is a different matter.**
I squinted at Tappilan. "The Ane are okay with this?"
**I should hope so. Getting it here took the combined efforts of millions of Ane.**
I started copying the data.
-*-
"This is going to take us a while to get up to speed on," General Fourty-Five said "But thank you. I think we might have a fighting chance, now."
"Usually we say ‘remember who your friends are’, But I'll wait until we earn that more."
The General raised an eyebrow at me "Right, Friends."
"I hope it works out that way in the long run."
"Me, too."
We entered the Boa-Olavax system.
It was sprawling. They had asteroids further away from their primary than Earth, but plenty of them, and a couple of good mining planets.
The system was littered with the usual stuff you see in built-up, civilized star systems. There was their main military base, surrounded by military starships. There were big solar-powered refineries, turning sunlight and deuterium into starship fuel.
There was a lot of traffic. We weren't asked to turn control of the Omoikane over to traffic control, but we were given a clear route.
We passed a huge horseshoe. Their main civilian space city. It was humming with activity and commercial ships coming and going.
We made our way to a big tree.
Literally, a huge cylindrical core branched off into branches and boughs. It was more regular than a real tree, but it was clear where they got the inspiration.
Usually, trees are half buried, so you don't see that the root systems mirror the branches above ground.
Their Starship Tree looked like two top halves of a tree. On the furthest extensions of the limbs, solar panels, heat radiators and sensor arrays all looked sort of like leaves, but more regular and technological.
It was a sizable installation, rivaling a lot of starbases and spacedocks in the Federation. It wasn't as big as a builder station, but then what was?
As we approached, we slowed down a great deal and picked our way through the equatorial gap where the leaves left an opening.
Some of the branches had sub-branches where ships were docked. Mostly Boa-Oalavax ships, but there were a couple of Bendarri cruisers and some Orion ships there.
Some of the Docking areas were taken up by cocoons - the Boa-Olavax created large spun cocoons for doing heavy repair work on ships. The material, a sort of high-tech flexible metallic fabric wasn't as tough as hull metal. But it could be rolled into interesting shapes and fixed with some high-tech epoxy-looking stuff to make a temporary air pocket to allow a crew to work in comfort. They had standardized cargo locks incorporated into the structure, so materials could come and go.
It was interesting, and pretty. A starship tree with starship fruit in various stages of ripeness.
At our destination, there was a Damyip transport. The Damyip liked a curved ellipsoid as their ship basis. They had a new run of ships that looked like a mix of Damyip and Federation technology.
This one was the front half of a curved ellipsoid, with a spine frame extending aft. It had an engine pod on the back where new warp drives and impulse drives looked very Federation.
It was labeled "DYP 14.8.10.2.45", in Federation script right where the NCC numbers should go.
Along the ventral side, cargo pods. The Federation default pattern.
Those would be our new Impulse drives.
We slid up to the dock, very slowly and carefully, talking with station control very clearly the whole way. We got to the right spot and came to a stop relative to the station itself. Tractor beams towed us into contact. There was an adapter arm that fit our ship and the fittings for external support mode. And docking adapters that fit our hatches and airlocks.
All of this was made of Damyip materials, to Federation specifications.
"USS Omoikane, welcome to the Starship Tree at Saukassas. We're glad to have you. Engage support mode."
"Engaging support mode," I said "Thank you Starship Tree Control. We turn control over to you."
"Roger, Omoikane. Enjoy yer stay."
We'd have to turn off the whole power system to replace the damaged Impulse drive units, so there was no help for it.
But it bugged my inner control freak.
-*-
The Bendarri and Boa-Olavax delegations finished up our presentation looking grim and a little tired.
"Well, that's interesting news," The Bendarri Captain tried to sound a positive note.
"I plan to call for a Federation Diplomatic Mission to the Shard to negotiate treaties regularizing our contact," I said.
"How soon do ya think we can expect the Shard or the Dragons to appear in our space?" The Boa-Olavax General asked.
"Well, I'd expect scouts from the Shard to be along pretty soon. They seemed very interested in Oron and the Lefyt. They're also not dummies, so they'll want to gain information before planning any sizable policy about this area."
I continued "As for the Dragons, you're at the extreme end of their range. The fact that we haven't heard of them already is good news. I suspect they won't rouse themselves for a long journey without a good reason."
The expressions on the Boa-Olavax faces were not promising.
"Computer" General Fourty-Five said, "Call up Files in the X Zero Five folder."
"State Authorization." The Boa Olavax computer replied.
General Fourty-Five did so.
The files showed wrecks encountered by the Boa-Olavax Space Navy and free-lance scouts along the spinward frontier.
One was a Shard ship, one was an Agusoapan raider. One was a Boa-Olavax scout ship. One was an adventuring mercenary ship. One was completely unknown.
All were torn up, andhad large parts of their hulls missing, in damage patterns that were mysterious to the Boa-Olavax. Until now.
These were all encountered in what the Boa-Olavax considered their Spinward frontier.
A good deal closer than I thought the Dragons were.
"Aw, hell," I said.
"Our ability to reinforce this area is limited," Captain Dorali, the Bendarri said. "We are currently engaged against the Thasites on our rimward frontier. Although the fighting is low intensity, the Thasites are numerous."
Lotara was the name of the Damyip Social Unit. It was her nickname. I didn't cope well remembering the Damyip number designations in practice. The Social units liked to take up humanoid-sounding names.
Lotara said, "We will do what we can, to assist our friends."
"I will be recommending that the Federation send ships. But I can't make any guarantees. We're spread very thin."
General Fourty-Five said "It’s hard to make plans based on well-meaning assertions. We'll have to plan as if you're not coming until you get here."
I nodded. It was discouraging.
-*-
In the old detective holo novels I liked, it was called working the phones. I was on the horn to Starfleet Command, reporting what we'd found and asking for backup.
It was slow going. We were far away from Earth and Starfleet Command.
My doorbell chimed. "Come," said
The door opened to Tippalan.
She had something in her mouth. **For our friends,** She thought at me.
I got up and took the thing. It was a memory unit. Several isolinear chips in an array.
I plugged it into my terminal.
It was technical readouts. I squinted at it.
Very very good Klingon shielding. I didn't even know they could make stuff like this. It equaled the best the Federation could manage.
Anti-Proton weapon specs. These were wild technology. I'd never seen the like. They fired a phased beam of antiprotons. They were noted as being inspired by Iconian technology, but the components were Federation-ish. It seemed they'd be decent anti-dragon armaments.
Advanced power systems. These could channel large amounts of energy without overheating or breaking down. They were the equal of the systems on the Omoikane but from a different tech base.
**It's from your brothers in the Fulcrum. We're not cleared to share Federation technology. But non-Federation tech is a different matter.**
I squinted at Tappilan. "The Ane are okay with this?"
**I should hope so. Getting it here took the combined efforts of millions of Ane.**
I started copying the data.
-*-
"This is going to take us a while to get up to speed on," General Fourty-Five said "But thank you. I think we might have a fighting chance, now."
"Usually we say ‘remember who your friends are’, But I'll wait until we earn that more."
The General raised an eyebrow at me "Right, Friends."
"I hope it works out that way in the long run."
"Me, too."
-
jayphailey
- Posts: 902
- Joined: Tue May 29, 2018 7:50 pm
Omoikane - 11 Cyberhorse 2020
Omoikane - 11 Cyberhorse 2020
The Damyip workers looked like technological insects. There were two flavors. The older ones were heavier and a little less graceful.
The new ones were patently cribbed from Federation technology but did all the things the old workers did, a little better.
They were ant-spider-looking things, about 2/3rd the size of a human. They scuttled.
Where an insect would have mandibles the Damyip workers had a multi-tool array. It could rotate and shift and put any tool they had to work. I recognized several of the tools. The front legs were more articulated and dexterous, the rear sets were less so but more robust.
They had antigravity and could float about on that as needed. They had little thrusters for working zero-g.
The older ones had been refitted with the new tool array, front legs, and propulsion.
The newer ones had cute voices. The older ones didn't have any voices. Lotara said "When the older ones were made, we never thought they'd interact with humanoids at all. I think the next upgrade pass will add a voice box. "
They could fold down into a tight package and be carried like cargo. The support ship had a lot of them aboard.
Galaglan didn't let them do anything unsupervised and made sure each step of the planned replacement went through her.
We did a cleanup and restocking of the Omoikane, and fixed anything that needed fixing or was close to its mean time of failure rating.
With all of us working, that part was done quickly. Then we got to go play tourist on Saukassas, the Boa-Olavax home world.
Galaglan was very detailed about scheduling her people so everyone got time off to go see the planet, but her crew was busy supervising the Damyip worker units until the end of the Job.
-*-
It was dry and dusty. The sun was shining brilliantly. Saukassas had one huge continent. That made for some extreme environments.
The town of Deadwood was where a desert met plains.
Li'ira and I were wearing hats and sunglasses, to ward off the sun. We ate something that might have been kettle corn.
We were in the audience for the Deadwood show. We were surrounded by tourists from all over the planet and the local sector of space.
A Boa-Olavax person in a no-kidding cowboy hat rode out on a cow. It was a riding cow. Longer legs. slimmer body, longer neck than the cows I knew growing up. I noted that he did not have cowboy boots on. I wondered if they had horseshoes nailed to their hooves. He had a six-gun. A hogleg on his hip.
"I'm the Tumble Weed kid! I'm here t' clean up this one cow town!"
And then he proceeded to show us lasso tricks. He was good at it. Have you ever handled a lasso? It's harder than it looks.
They acted out some vignette that looked like about 90% cowboy movie and 10% maybe saw reality once, at a distance. They shot at each other with the large pistols and did stunt work.
Then it turned into a rodeo.
I had a great time. Li'ira was inscrutable the whole time.
The only thing I missed was a barbeque. The Boa-Olavax were mostly vegetarians, their riding cows were not for food, they were pre-technology transport and farm equipment. Their food had a lot more cellulose than I could cope with. But some treats translated well.
-*-
It was dark, the music was thumping and loud. Interesting, but not really my thing. Weird lights were a rainbow riot. The crowds mainly were Boa-Olavax people and so we were at a size disadvantage. I should say that I was at a size disadvantage. Li'ira glided through the crowd with ease.
Tables were points of bright and consistent light. Li'ira glided and I followed as well as I could from table to table. Vendors tried to sell us all sorts of new technology.
Cybernetics. Enhancements. New hands, new arms, new legs, new eyes, new ears. Add-on modules for the brain. The prices were noted in horseshoes. The Boa-Olavax had a mostly virtual currency called a horseshoe. It descended from the currency used during the historical period depicted in Deadwood a few days ago. Small gold and silver horseshoes were the currency the cow-riding horse boys used to buy cowboy hats and ammunition.
Now, you had horseshoe balances in electronic media. And you better have a great big pile of horseshoes. It was hard to really calculate the exchange rate, but I guestimated the prices on these new, high-end cybernetics were somewhere in the neighborhood of heart-stopping.
Literal horse girls modeled enhancements and danced to call attention to the various vendors.
There was a lot of talking and yelling over the music.
Li'ira hauled me to the back end of the convention/event/rave.
There, slim black boxes were on display. Horse people with odd enhancements and mirrored sunglasses looked at us suspiciously. I couldn't really read the signs. The tone seemed to range from "High-end gear for high-end prices" to "Fuck the man, burn baby burn" sometimes both at once.
Li'ira got into a technical discussion with one of the Cyberhorse boys. He seemed unimpressed until Li'ira said... something. I really could not follow it. It seemed to have to do with data throughput and network architecture, and a discussion about how to firewall a network. But they spoke quickly and left me behind.
I noticed a few of the Cyberhorse people weren't following the conversation either. They just looked blandly at me, Li'ira, and the other passers-by.
"Security?" I asked.
One shrugged "You could say that."
I help up my hands "I hope it's really boring for you."
He gave me a lopsided grin "Easy horseshoes."
When I turned back Li'ira had her tricorder open on the table, and they were trying to improvise an interface.
I tapped her shoulder "Do you want me to get you anything?"
She thought about it "A beer"
I squinted. The beer for sale at the event was three liters of vile swill. I was thinking of going back to the ship to get more tools and supplies to allow Li'ira to do... whatever she was doing more easily. She turned back to her task, absorbed.
"Okay. Anyone else?"
That was a mistake.
-*-
I got back with a small wagon and half a dozen huge tumblers of various things.
Li'ira had her tricorder hooked up to three evil-looking boxes. I leaned over and squinted at the gear like an old man I recognized some sort of networking node. That one looked like some sort of data encryption rig, from the way the inputs and outputs were arranged. I have no idea what the third box was.
They sipped on their awful beer while discussing technical things and doing something regarding channeling data from here to there.
Eventually, Li'ira straightened up and turned to me.
"I'd like to buy these," Li'ira said. She had a kind of excited semi-smile on her. How could I possibly resist?
"Sure. Why not?"
She showed me the prices. I had no idea but it was a lot of places to the left of the decimal.
I took out my own tricorder and hooked into the comm net. Li'ira put her hand on my tricorder and glared at one of the cyber horse folks. "Knock it off."
He looked up from what looked like a little game console. My confusion amused him. Li'ira's catching him amused him more, "Alright, alright."
I caught up "Really? Really? "
He said, "Don't hate the player, man, hate the game."
I sighed "Alright, Li'ira, securing the breaches is on you. Make sure we're locked down at the end of the day."
She grinned "I can do that."
No one said anything but the challenge was there.
Li'ira winked at the cyberhorses.
We paid them their stupidly large pile of horseshoes, selling a little of our anti-matter to pay for it.
And then Li'ira made me carry her gear back to the ship.
Back on the ship, I thought about it. The sound rattled in my head. The closeness of all the people made me feel a little breathless. I recalled looking up at the corners of the ceilings in the convention space, as the weird lights flashed.
It was a little fun. A little exciting.
But I was good. One of those was enough for me.
The Damyip workers looked like technological insects. There were two flavors. The older ones were heavier and a little less graceful.
The new ones were patently cribbed from Federation technology but did all the things the old workers did, a little better.
They were ant-spider-looking things, about 2/3rd the size of a human. They scuttled.
Where an insect would have mandibles the Damyip workers had a multi-tool array. It could rotate and shift and put any tool they had to work. I recognized several of the tools. The front legs were more articulated and dexterous, the rear sets were less so but more robust.
They had antigravity and could float about on that as needed. They had little thrusters for working zero-g.
The older ones had been refitted with the new tool array, front legs, and propulsion.
The newer ones had cute voices. The older ones didn't have any voices. Lotara said "When the older ones were made, we never thought they'd interact with humanoids at all. I think the next upgrade pass will add a voice box. "
They could fold down into a tight package and be carried like cargo. The support ship had a lot of them aboard.
Galaglan didn't let them do anything unsupervised and made sure each step of the planned replacement went through her.
We did a cleanup and restocking of the Omoikane, and fixed anything that needed fixing or was close to its mean time of failure rating.
With all of us working, that part was done quickly. Then we got to go play tourist on Saukassas, the Boa-Olavax home world.
Galaglan was very detailed about scheduling her people so everyone got time off to go see the planet, but her crew was busy supervising the Damyip worker units until the end of the Job.
-*-
It was dry and dusty. The sun was shining brilliantly. Saukassas had one huge continent. That made for some extreme environments.
The town of Deadwood was where a desert met plains.
Li'ira and I were wearing hats and sunglasses, to ward off the sun. We ate something that might have been kettle corn.
We were in the audience for the Deadwood show. We were surrounded by tourists from all over the planet and the local sector of space.
A Boa-Olavax person in a no-kidding cowboy hat rode out on a cow. It was a riding cow. Longer legs. slimmer body, longer neck than the cows I knew growing up. I noted that he did not have cowboy boots on. I wondered if they had horseshoes nailed to their hooves. He had a six-gun. A hogleg on his hip.
"I'm the Tumble Weed kid! I'm here t' clean up this one cow town!"
And then he proceeded to show us lasso tricks. He was good at it. Have you ever handled a lasso? It's harder than it looks.
They acted out some vignette that looked like about 90% cowboy movie and 10% maybe saw reality once, at a distance. They shot at each other with the large pistols and did stunt work.
Then it turned into a rodeo.
I had a great time. Li'ira was inscrutable the whole time.
The only thing I missed was a barbeque. The Boa-Olavax were mostly vegetarians, their riding cows were not for food, they were pre-technology transport and farm equipment. Their food had a lot more cellulose than I could cope with. But some treats translated well.
-*-
It was dark, the music was thumping and loud. Interesting, but not really my thing. Weird lights were a rainbow riot. The crowds mainly were Boa-Olavax people and so we were at a size disadvantage. I should say that I was at a size disadvantage. Li'ira glided through the crowd with ease.
Tables were points of bright and consistent light. Li'ira glided and I followed as well as I could from table to table. Vendors tried to sell us all sorts of new technology.
Cybernetics. Enhancements. New hands, new arms, new legs, new eyes, new ears. Add-on modules for the brain. The prices were noted in horseshoes. The Boa-Olavax had a mostly virtual currency called a horseshoe. It descended from the currency used during the historical period depicted in Deadwood a few days ago. Small gold and silver horseshoes were the currency the cow-riding horse boys used to buy cowboy hats and ammunition.
Now, you had horseshoe balances in electronic media. And you better have a great big pile of horseshoes. It was hard to really calculate the exchange rate, but I guestimated the prices on these new, high-end cybernetics were somewhere in the neighborhood of heart-stopping.
Literal horse girls modeled enhancements and danced to call attention to the various vendors.
There was a lot of talking and yelling over the music.
Li'ira hauled me to the back end of the convention/event/rave.
There, slim black boxes were on display. Horse people with odd enhancements and mirrored sunglasses looked at us suspiciously. I couldn't really read the signs. The tone seemed to range from "High-end gear for high-end prices" to "Fuck the man, burn baby burn" sometimes both at once.
Li'ira got into a technical discussion with one of the Cyberhorse boys. He seemed unimpressed until Li'ira said... something. I really could not follow it. It seemed to have to do with data throughput and network architecture, and a discussion about how to firewall a network. But they spoke quickly and left me behind.
I noticed a few of the Cyberhorse people weren't following the conversation either. They just looked blandly at me, Li'ira, and the other passers-by.
"Security?" I asked.
One shrugged "You could say that."
I help up my hands "I hope it's really boring for you."
He gave me a lopsided grin "Easy horseshoes."
When I turned back Li'ira had her tricorder open on the table, and they were trying to improvise an interface.
I tapped her shoulder "Do you want me to get you anything?"
She thought about it "A beer"
I squinted. The beer for sale at the event was three liters of vile swill. I was thinking of going back to the ship to get more tools and supplies to allow Li'ira to do... whatever she was doing more easily. She turned back to her task, absorbed.
"Okay. Anyone else?"
That was a mistake.
-*-
I got back with a small wagon and half a dozen huge tumblers of various things.
Li'ira had her tricorder hooked up to three evil-looking boxes. I leaned over and squinted at the gear like an old man I recognized some sort of networking node. That one looked like some sort of data encryption rig, from the way the inputs and outputs were arranged. I have no idea what the third box was.
They sipped on their awful beer while discussing technical things and doing something regarding channeling data from here to there.
Eventually, Li'ira straightened up and turned to me.
"I'd like to buy these," Li'ira said. She had a kind of excited semi-smile on her. How could I possibly resist?
"Sure. Why not?"
She showed me the prices. I had no idea but it was a lot of places to the left of the decimal.
I took out my own tricorder and hooked into the comm net. Li'ira put her hand on my tricorder and glared at one of the cyber horse folks. "Knock it off."
He looked up from what looked like a little game console. My confusion amused him. Li'ira's catching him amused him more, "Alright, alright."
I caught up "Really? Really? "
He said, "Don't hate the player, man, hate the game."
I sighed "Alright, Li'ira, securing the breaches is on you. Make sure we're locked down at the end of the day."
She grinned "I can do that."
No one said anything but the challenge was there.
Li'ira winked at the cyberhorses.
We paid them their stupidly large pile of horseshoes, selling a little of our anti-matter to pay for it.
And then Li'ira made me carry her gear back to the ship.
Back on the ship, I thought about it. The sound rattled in my head. The closeness of all the people made me feel a little breathless. I recalled looking up at the corners of the ceilings in the convention space, as the weird lights flashed.
It was a little fun. A little exciting.
But I was good. One of those was enough for me.
-
jayphailey
- Posts: 902
- Joined: Tue May 29, 2018 7:50 pm
Omoikane - 12 The Children of Oron
Omoikane - 12 The Children of Oron
Kathtaxas entered the room with a slight flourish. He had two guards, one man and one woman. Their uniforms were exquisite, all their gear was polished and tight.
Kathtaxas himself cut a dashing figure in luxurious Orion dress. He knew it. He'd had some work done to emphasize his good points. His skin was lustrous gold with a hint of copper to it. He had the right jewelry and the right accessories.
Reverend Mordal kept his composure. He was wearing simple white robes with the Sigil of the Temple of Mercuron on them. Underneath his robes, simple but practical clothing for a day of office work.
Mordal was working as the assistant Minister for Diplomacy. He looked resolutely normal. His skin was lemon yellow. His thin hair, kept short was purple. He was a little pudgier than he liked around his cheeks.
Kathtaxas led off "Greetings, Assistant Minister. I hope you'll quickly summon your master and we can get to work."
"I am empowered to speak for the ministry, Sir. Whatever proposals you have, I have the ability to receive and negotiate."
"Honored Sir," Kathtaxas corrected. He was minor nobility and that was important. "I am disappointed, but in the spirit of generosity I am prepared to proceed."
"Thank you, Honored Sir." Mordals tone was a touch dry, but not enough to count as an offense, "What is your proposal?"
"I represent a faction on Bot'chok. An important faction. A relationship between your people and mine will be remunerative and beneficial to your people."
"What sort of relationship do you have in mind?"
"A commercial one. A diplomatic one. A political one."
"To what end?"
"For us, it will give us a base to expand our economic efforts and increase our influence in this distant sector. For you, we're offering money, technology, and through us, ships and influence of your own."
"You understand, that we prefer a non-violent relationship with other people. We are open to communication and commerce with anyone who wishes to come and deal fairly."
"If you're friends to all, you're friends to none. By trying to have it all ways, you scatter yourselves and dilute your power. You doom your world to eternal second-rate status."
"I question who is doing the rating and what, precisely is being rated, Honored Sir. Besides, the people of Bot'chok have a relationship in this sector with the Agusoapan people."
"Some of the people of Bot'chok. Also... The Agusoapans are... aliens."
Mordal sighed deeply "I am an alien to you as well. We are from different worlds."
"We are of the same blood."
"We are separated by thousands of years of history," Mordal said "I suspect our priorities are somewhat different."
"Will becoming a client race of the Agusoapans or the Boa-Olavax suit your priorities? The Happy Bear Queen? The Federation and the Klingons are even sniffing around."
"Would becoming a client to your house advance our priorities?"
"Let's discuss that. I am sure, together we can work out a way for a relationship with us to benefit your world. And you, in particular."
"If you wish to set up a trade mission here, this is not objectionable to us."
Kathtaxas smiled "I had in mind something a little more... exclusive."
Mordals desk phone beeped at him, in a raucous tone. Mordal gave it a surprised look. "I must take this call. That is an urgent tone."
He picked up a hand set and said "This is Mordal..... What? Where is it? Alright. Hail them and see what they want. I'll be along shortly." He placed the handset back on the phone "Apparently there's a ship over the city."
Kathtaxas blinked. His own ship should have warned him, "Is it visible from here"?"
"Lets go see."
They walked into a courtyard in front of the administration building at the University. Crowds had gathered
The Ship hung over the center of the city, a few blocks from the edge of the University Campus and about 2000 meters up.
Mordal looked at the lines. Like a flattened ocean-going ship, with a prow, a wing on either side and two engine nacelles on the aft end. The layout was similar to Kathtaxas' cruiser in standard orbit. But Kathtaxas’ ship was blockier. More naval looking. This one looked like that but crossed with a fish. All curves, no angles.
"Is that one of your people's ships?" Mordal asked
Kathtaxas shook his head "It looks similar. But I don't know that configuration."
A Student ran up to Mordal "Control says they have communication with the new ship."
Mordal turned to enter the Building to go find Traffic Control.
"May I come with you?"
Mordal winced very slightly "I won't physically stop you."
Kathtaxas grinned. He might be able to use this.
-*-
The newcomer beamed into the transporter room.
He wore a uniform. It was simple, elegant, black and shiny.
Kathtaxas noted that he was the disturbing yellow/green mix of the Darnarans. Somewhere between a Green Orion and a Golden Orion.
It offended his sensibilities. Golden Orions were the superior race. Greens were scum. Slaves prone to insanity and violence.
The idea of semi-green people with advanced starships bothered him too.
Kathtaxas was a pro, and none of this showed up on his face or in his body language.
The newcomer wore a headband with decorations that almost looked like rank markings.
"I am Commander Zojarala, Of the Shard. "
"Welcome. I am Reverend Mordal of the University of Mercuron. This is Sir Kathtaxas of Bot'chok."
Zojarala smiled "Mercuron. Like one of the ancient gods of my people. A god of wisdom and knowledge."
Mordal nodded "Our name is also inspired by a god of wisdom and knowledge. However, I suspect we may be setting ourselves up for a misunderstanding if we leap to conclusions."
Zojarala nodded "I believe you will find it’s the same god. You see the Shard is the Ancient Empire."
Mordal blinked in surprise "The Ancient Empire fell in the War of the Gods."
Zojarala smiled and opened his hands in a small tada motion "Most of the Ancient Empire. We survived."
"Interesting. Please, let's go to the meeting room and sit down. May I fetch you anything?"
"What do your people serve diplomatic guests? I look forward to a new experience."
Mordal gestured.
Zojarala moved towards the door. "Bot'chok. That's the one in between the Federation and the Klingon Empire, right? Sometimes rendered as The Orion Colonies?" He asked Kathtaxas
"That is correct, Commander."
"Perhaps you'd be willing to share some information with us? We hope to get a scouting mission out to you, eventually. I'm sure your history and culture are fascinating!"
Kathtaxas nodded agreeably "I'd like to hear about this Shard of yours as well."
-*-
The meeting was one of talking and sharing information. Various snacks and beverages were brought in by students gaining credits for their degrees.
"I hope you'll be as welcoming to the mission that follows me," Zojarala said.
"I see no reason why we wouldn't," Mordal said
"When they'vey've been out from under Imperial jurisdiction for so long, many people become independently minded. We hope you'll return to Imperial rule peacefully. It would be for the best."
Mordal tilted his head "Excuse me?"
Zojarala said carefully "The Empire. The Ancient Empire. The Empire of Oron. That's us. You me, Sir Kathtaxas. Although your blood is corrupted, you’re still Children of Oron. That makes you our jurisdiction. All people of Oron blood came from the Empire and must return to it as we re-establish ourselves."
"And if we politely decline your generous offer?" Mordal asked carefully.
"I'm afraid that's not an option. We cannot have division among the Children of Oron. That's how the War of the Gods happened. We cannot let that happen again."
Kathtaxas couldn't help himself. He laughed. "All the worlds of Orion Descent? You mean to conquer us all?"
"Of course not me, personally. But the Empire is large. And we don't forget. If it takes a thousand years, your people will return to the Empire. We'll come slowly at first. But there will always be more and more of us.
"I'm sorry but this wonderful planet, of yours, Mercuron, is just too conveniently placed. It’s too well placed for a base for us to go slowly. Next will be a cruiser or perhaps a dreadnought. After that will be a task force. You will return to the Empire. The only question is how violent we have to be to make this happen."
Mordal gripped his chin and jaw "Surely, there is a reasonable alternative here."
Zojarala said sadly "Reverend, the Empire IS the reasonable option."
It hung in the air for a while
"You said we had corrupted blood," Kathtaxas said
"You Golden Orions, and your Greens. You are genetically engineered variants of us. People like me are the true Children of Oron. Your people are imperfect copies. That doesn't mean we aren't responsible for making sure you're fairly ruled. It is our obligation to establish fair, workable but unquestioned rule over your worlds. You represent a danger. A danger of greed, hubris, violence, and corruption. A severe danger. We will make sure these impulses don't damage the Empire. Your descendants will live peaceful lives of relative plenty, safe on your homeworlds."
Kathtaxas shook his head ruefully "This is the worst diplomatic overture I've ever heard, and I've had negotiations with Klingons."
Zojarala tone was a mix of sadness and resignation, "I can see this won't be easy. But it must be done. In the long term, it's the only way. I hope, that when things become plain, here, you'll do the right thing, and join the Empire."
Kathtaxas stood slowly "Thank you for your entertaining display Commander. I must be going."
Zojarala looked at him carefully "When you report this, tell me, will your backers rally together? Will they put together a coalition and come to meet us in force? Or will their first consideration be of how they might use this to their advantage? Will they scheme about who might pay more for weapons? Will they plan to feed us their rivals and enemies so that we might eat them first? Will they attempt various flavors of engagement to try and turn my people into an advantage for themselves?"
Kathtaxas glared at the newcomer.
"This isn't our first time. But please, enjoy yourself. There's a lot of space between us and Bot'chok. Your grandchildren will likely have to make decisions about where they stand. But today? You might as well have fun."
Shooting Mordal a meaningful look, Kathtaxas turned, beckoned his guards and left.
As he left he heard Zorjarala ask "Is this wine local? It's very good."
Kathtaxas entered the room with a slight flourish. He had two guards, one man and one woman. Their uniforms were exquisite, all their gear was polished and tight.
Kathtaxas himself cut a dashing figure in luxurious Orion dress. He knew it. He'd had some work done to emphasize his good points. His skin was lustrous gold with a hint of copper to it. He had the right jewelry and the right accessories.
Reverend Mordal kept his composure. He was wearing simple white robes with the Sigil of the Temple of Mercuron on them. Underneath his robes, simple but practical clothing for a day of office work.
Mordal was working as the assistant Minister for Diplomacy. He looked resolutely normal. His skin was lemon yellow. His thin hair, kept short was purple. He was a little pudgier than he liked around his cheeks.
Kathtaxas led off "Greetings, Assistant Minister. I hope you'll quickly summon your master and we can get to work."
"I am empowered to speak for the ministry, Sir. Whatever proposals you have, I have the ability to receive and negotiate."
"Honored Sir," Kathtaxas corrected. He was minor nobility and that was important. "I am disappointed, but in the spirit of generosity I am prepared to proceed."
"Thank you, Honored Sir." Mordals tone was a touch dry, but not enough to count as an offense, "What is your proposal?"
"I represent a faction on Bot'chok. An important faction. A relationship between your people and mine will be remunerative and beneficial to your people."
"What sort of relationship do you have in mind?"
"A commercial one. A diplomatic one. A political one."
"To what end?"
"For us, it will give us a base to expand our economic efforts and increase our influence in this distant sector. For you, we're offering money, technology, and through us, ships and influence of your own."
"You understand, that we prefer a non-violent relationship with other people. We are open to communication and commerce with anyone who wishes to come and deal fairly."
"If you're friends to all, you're friends to none. By trying to have it all ways, you scatter yourselves and dilute your power. You doom your world to eternal second-rate status."
"I question who is doing the rating and what, precisely is being rated, Honored Sir. Besides, the people of Bot'chok have a relationship in this sector with the Agusoapan people."
"Some of the people of Bot'chok. Also... The Agusoapans are... aliens."
Mordal sighed deeply "I am an alien to you as well. We are from different worlds."
"We are of the same blood."
"We are separated by thousands of years of history," Mordal said "I suspect our priorities are somewhat different."
"Will becoming a client race of the Agusoapans or the Boa-Olavax suit your priorities? The Happy Bear Queen? The Federation and the Klingons are even sniffing around."
"Would becoming a client to your house advance our priorities?"
"Let's discuss that. I am sure, together we can work out a way for a relationship with us to benefit your world. And you, in particular."
"If you wish to set up a trade mission here, this is not objectionable to us."
Kathtaxas smiled "I had in mind something a little more... exclusive."
Mordals desk phone beeped at him, in a raucous tone. Mordal gave it a surprised look. "I must take this call. That is an urgent tone."
He picked up a hand set and said "This is Mordal..... What? Where is it? Alright. Hail them and see what they want. I'll be along shortly." He placed the handset back on the phone "Apparently there's a ship over the city."
Kathtaxas blinked. His own ship should have warned him, "Is it visible from here"?"
"Lets go see."
They walked into a courtyard in front of the administration building at the University. Crowds had gathered
The Ship hung over the center of the city, a few blocks from the edge of the University Campus and about 2000 meters up.
Mordal looked at the lines. Like a flattened ocean-going ship, with a prow, a wing on either side and two engine nacelles on the aft end. The layout was similar to Kathtaxas' cruiser in standard orbit. But Kathtaxas’ ship was blockier. More naval looking. This one looked like that but crossed with a fish. All curves, no angles.
"Is that one of your people's ships?" Mordal asked
Kathtaxas shook his head "It looks similar. But I don't know that configuration."
A Student ran up to Mordal "Control says they have communication with the new ship."
Mordal turned to enter the Building to go find Traffic Control.
"May I come with you?"
Mordal winced very slightly "I won't physically stop you."
Kathtaxas grinned. He might be able to use this.
-*-
The newcomer beamed into the transporter room.
He wore a uniform. It was simple, elegant, black and shiny.
Kathtaxas noted that he was the disturbing yellow/green mix of the Darnarans. Somewhere between a Green Orion and a Golden Orion.
It offended his sensibilities. Golden Orions were the superior race. Greens were scum. Slaves prone to insanity and violence.
The idea of semi-green people with advanced starships bothered him too.
Kathtaxas was a pro, and none of this showed up on his face or in his body language.
The newcomer wore a headband with decorations that almost looked like rank markings.
"I am Commander Zojarala, Of the Shard. "
"Welcome. I am Reverend Mordal of the University of Mercuron. This is Sir Kathtaxas of Bot'chok."
Zojarala smiled "Mercuron. Like one of the ancient gods of my people. A god of wisdom and knowledge."
Mordal nodded "Our name is also inspired by a god of wisdom and knowledge. However, I suspect we may be setting ourselves up for a misunderstanding if we leap to conclusions."
Zojarala nodded "I believe you will find it’s the same god. You see the Shard is the Ancient Empire."
Mordal blinked in surprise "The Ancient Empire fell in the War of the Gods."
Zojarala smiled and opened his hands in a small tada motion "Most of the Ancient Empire. We survived."
"Interesting. Please, let's go to the meeting room and sit down. May I fetch you anything?"
"What do your people serve diplomatic guests? I look forward to a new experience."
Mordal gestured.
Zojarala moved towards the door. "Bot'chok. That's the one in between the Federation and the Klingon Empire, right? Sometimes rendered as The Orion Colonies?" He asked Kathtaxas
"That is correct, Commander."
"Perhaps you'd be willing to share some information with us? We hope to get a scouting mission out to you, eventually. I'm sure your history and culture are fascinating!"
Kathtaxas nodded agreeably "I'd like to hear about this Shard of yours as well."
-*-
The meeting was one of talking and sharing information. Various snacks and beverages were brought in by students gaining credits for their degrees.
"I hope you'll be as welcoming to the mission that follows me," Zojarala said.
"I see no reason why we wouldn't," Mordal said
"When they'vey've been out from under Imperial jurisdiction for so long, many people become independently minded. We hope you'll return to Imperial rule peacefully. It would be for the best."
Mordal tilted his head "Excuse me?"
Zojarala said carefully "The Empire. The Ancient Empire. The Empire of Oron. That's us. You me, Sir Kathtaxas. Although your blood is corrupted, you’re still Children of Oron. That makes you our jurisdiction. All people of Oron blood came from the Empire and must return to it as we re-establish ourselves."
"And if we politely decline your generous offer?" Mordal asked carefully.
"I'm afraid that's not an option. We cannot have division among the Children of Oron. That's how the War of the Gods happened. We cannot let that happen again."
Kathtaxas couldn't help himself. He laughed. "All the worlds of Orion Descent? You mean to conquer us all?"
"Of course not me, personally. But the Empire is large. And we don't forget. If it takes a thousand years, your people will return to the Empire. We'll come slowly at first. But there will always be more and more of us.
"I'm sorry but this wonderful planet, of yours, Mercuron, is just too conveniently placed. It’s too well placed for a base for us to go slowly. Next will be a cruiser or perhaps a dreadnought. After that will be a task force. You will return to the Empire. The only question is how violent we have to be to make this happen."
Mordal gripped his chin and jaw "Surely, there is a reasonable alternative here."
Zojarala said sadly "Reverend, the Empire IS the reasonable option."
It hung in the air for a while
"You said we had corrupted blood," Kathtaxas said
"You Golden Orions, and your Greens. You are genetically engineered variants of us. People like me are the true Children of Oron. Your people are imperfect copies. That doesn't mean we aren't responsible for making sure you're fairly ruled. It is our obligation to establish fair, workable but unquestioned rule over your worlds. You represent a danger. A danger of greed, hubris, violence, and corruption. A severe danger. We will make sure these impulses don't damage the Empire. Your descendants will live peaceful lives of relative plenty, safe on your homeworlds."
Kathtaxas shook his head ruefully "This is the worst diplomatic overture I've ever heard, and I've had negotiations with Klingons."
Zojarala tone was a mix of sadness and resignation, "I can see this won't be easy. But it must be done. In the long term, it's the only way. I hope, that when things become plain, here, you'll do the right thing, and join the Empire."
Kathtaxas stood slowly "Thank you for your entertaining display Commander. I must be going."
Zojarala looked at him carefully "When you report this, tell me, will your backers rally together? Will they put together a coalition and come to meet us in force? Or will their first consideration be of how they might use this to their advantage? Will they scheme about who might pay more for weapons? Will they plan to feed us their rivals and enemies so that we might eat them first? Will they attempt various flavors of engagement to try and turn my people into an advantage for themselves?"
Kathtaxas glared at the newcomer.
"This isn't our first time. But please, enjoy yourself. There's a lot of space between us and Bot'chok. Your grandchildren will likely have to make decisions about where they stand. But today? You might as well have fun."
Shooting Mordal a meaningful look, Kathtaxas turned, beckoned his guards and left.
As he left he heard Zorjarala ask "Is this wine local? It's very good."