"So what's creating the light?” Gir'Ahl asked, looking around.
"No shadows,” Rhynn'An said curiously, looking about. “It's almost as though it's extruding from all surfaces, but that doesn't explain why we don't see glare from them. I--"
"What was that?!” Khan'Tin whirled as fast as he could in the suit, facing the direction from which they had just come.
The others slowly, quietly turned. “Did you hear something?” Polus asked cautiously.
"No, I felt something,” Khan'Tin said, disturbed. “Like somebody putting an emotion in my head."
Polus walked to the other Fenrir, his expression grave. “Describe it,” he said.
"Something's expecting us over there,” Khan'Tin said quietly. “Something expects us to go over there, to come to it. I don't know whether it's hostile."
"A telepathic signal?” Rhynn'An said, in awe. “Is there a psionic entity on this old ship? My instruments won't be able to read that, Doctor."
"Calm, Rhynn.” Polus shushed him with a wave of his hand, his attention still fixed on Khan'Tin. “Expects us, you say. But not hostile?"
"I said I don't know if it's hostile, Polus, it's just this... desire, not from me, for us to go over there.” He growled quietly and touched the pistol again. “It could be a welcome, 'come meet me,' or it could be an invitation to an ambush.” He turned his head from the direction of the beckoning, back toward Polus. “I don't know about you, Doctor, but that second possibility has me nervous. I say we bug off this thing and wait for a more capable force to secure it."
"Hmm.” Polus looked around at the other Fenrir, reading their body language: a sort of nonplussed confusion from Gir'Ahl, tension on the edge of fight-or-flight from Khan'Tin, and eagerness from Rhynn'An. “My friends, we have here a first-contact opportunity. Our attitude and response in this moment decide this species' first impression of the Fenrir. To flee and return with superior armament paints us as hair-triggered and warlike.” He smiled vaguely, too little to be apparent through his helmet. “That may aptly describe some of our race, but we of the Da'Winn are a group apart, explorers and seekers of knowledge. And if I did not think that universally admirable, I would not be here, gentlemen.
"It is true, Khan'Tin, that we may now approach a being who--rightfully--sees us as intruders and a possible threat. I do not often ask such a risk of you. But I know too that you would not follow me into the strange void, guiding our vessel through it, if you were unwilling to face danger and uncertainty. Let us for now trust that another being of flesh and blood will, like us, seek peace before violence. And since it has spoken, in a manner, to you, Khan'Tin... well. Navigate once more, my friend."
The crew had heard many such speeches before, but that very fact brought the situation a familiarity it had lacked, and the stances of all the other Fenrir shifted to greater ease. “What if it's not flesh and blood?” muttered Khan'Tin, but it was a faint and final protest, not a refusal. He led on, followed by Rhynn'An, Polus, and finally Gir'Ahl, toward the source of that quiet and insistent call.
The crew spread out from the mouth of the long hallway. They'd been walking for about five minutes following the mysterious call, and it seemed that their trek had finally ended with a destination, of sorts. They were in a cavern within the ship, it seemed, with a large open space. The ceiling was curved so that the right side of the room had a ceiling of only a meter, but the left side went something like fifteen meters up. The ceiling appeared to be a spongy-looking, ribbed material that was bisected in the center. The walls were pocked with divots that appeared to be some kind of anchor points, perhaps for a harness or machine. The sticky floor remained, and appeared to go in a path across the room to another exit on the other side.
There didn't appear to be anything of note there.
Rhynn'An jumped a little and made a slight murring noise. Polus turned to him. The younger Fenrir looked up. “I thought--” he looked around, then back at his instruments. “No, it's nothing after all. I thought...” he trailed off.
Khan'Tin strode to the middle of the chamber and looked about, confused. “It ended. I'm not getting pulled any more."
"Maybe this is where we're supposed to be,” Gir'Ahl said, looking straight up at the odd ceiling. An excited yip came from Rhynn'An, who stood near the low part of the ceiling.
"Lungs!” he said excitedly. “They're lungs!"
"Lungs?” Khan'Tin asked incredulously from the middle of the floor. “For a ship in deep space?"
"They read just like them,” Rhynn'An said, punching buttons. “I can't tell what purpose they serve or what they process, but this tissue is just like some strange lung made of natural organic material. It's also very recently dead.” Polus strode forward and cautiously reached out, touching the low part of the ceiling. Rhynn'An walked away, still playing with the controls.
"It's really flesh,” Polus said. “I think this ship was alive."
"There!” Rhynn'An shouted. “Again, I knew I didn't imagine it. There's something alive near us!"
"Where?” Polus asked, turning.
"Directly--” Rhynn'An began.
"ABOVE!” Khan'Tin shouted, pointing.
The fearsome, blunt-headed form of some sort of bizarre alien was plummeting from the high ceiling, headfirst.
The Fenrir scattered, more like mice or birds than a pack of canines, getting out of the way of the falling object. Polus half-tripped, half-dove to the sticky floor, finding his side adhered there. Rhynn'An had similar difficulty, toppling onto his rump--but his scanner remained in hand, trained on the alien. Gir'Ahl, well out of the way already, just stood and gaped, while Khan'Tin backpedaled, his photon pistol in hand.
The broad-chested, tan figure hit the floor with a sound that reverberated through the air-filled ship. There appeared to be a reddish, capsule-shaped compartment on the thing's chest, in which some kind of creature seemed to be floating, mostly obscured by the contents of the capsule.
A voice crackled to life in the radio systems of the Fenrir's suits, speaking in an obscure language.
"Khan'Tin!” Polus shouted. “Stand down your weapon! It's attempting to communicate with us.” Slowly, the younger fox lowered the pistol, still clutching it with both hands but pointing it at the floor. “Now... ah.” Polus noted the radio frequency the alien had used, and toggled to a different channel to communicate with the boarding team. “Let's not surround it, shall we? Come, all of you, form up behind me. Slowly, now!” Carefully, he got to his feet--briefly considered staying at a kneel, but no, no reason to appear servile merely to avoid belligerence--and switched back to the alien's frequency, speaking in even tones. “Greetings, traveller. We come as visitors to your ship, and mean you no harm.” Building up a vocabulary between them would have to come later, assuming this went well; for now, saying what he meant would help him maintain an appropriate tone of voice. Gambling, of course, that even that would translate.
There was an awkward silence, the deadly-looking creature crouched not far away at all. Before long, the radios of the Fenrir crackled to life again, speaking in their own language. Perhaps a bit awkwardly, as though it knew everything about speaking fluent Fenrir but had only just remembered that it did.
"Greetings,” it began hesitantly. “Greetings to the visitors. I would request your business in the dead ship Eulogy.” That last word was in English, and was spoken like a name but was definitely the word 'eulogy'.
"Eh--” Polus did a purely mental double-take upon hearing the familiar tones of the Fenrir and Alliance languages. Perhaps they weren't dealing with a first contact after all, but if that were the case, why had they never seen or heard of such bizarre technology as this? He willed himself back from his thoughts to the present situation. “We are explorers and scientists. We came aboard this, ah, dead ship because it seemed abandoned, and we had never before seen anything like it. Yours is a fascinating vessel.” He risked an inquiry of his own. “Where does it, or you, come from?"
There was another pause. It was peculiar-- there was no notable accent to the voice and it spoke in casual, familiar tones, but there was something awkward about the way it used the language. It was not like anything Polus had heard before, and though it was subtle it was still a bit unnerving.
"We...” it spoke, and paused. “I cannot say.” Its wording was clearly purposefully vague. "Eulogy was alive as the being that I ride, whose name is Elegy.” Again, an english word, quite deliberate. “I am Will. What are your names?” The creature rose from its crouch into a slightly less aggressive pose, though it still towered over the Fenrir.
"I am Polus An'Tair, the leader of this expedition.” Polus placed his hand over his heart, making clear who was speaking. “These are my assistants: Jos Khan'Tin, Hasthur Gir'Ahl, and Cory Rhynn'An.” He indicated each in turn. “The four of us make up the core crew of the ship now docked with Eulogy, the Da'Winn-B. We are all very pleased to make your acquaintance, Will.” He paused a moment, considering the situation. “Since Eulogy has, ah, passed away, can we assist you somehow? Do you have a destination?"
Will seemed to ponder that for a moment. It... he spoke again. It seemed that he was already a tiny bit more comfortable with the Fenrir language, though he still spoke it as though he became fluent in a classroom. “I have no destination,” he finally said. “I would like to see Eulogy to a final resting place, but my only true obligation now is to survival. If it would be possible to solicit your help while maintaining an effective neutrality-- I do not wish to burn any bridges so early-- I would be grateful, Da'Winn-riders."
Polus nodded, maybe an imperceptible gesture with his helmet on. “A ship belonging to our patron organization, the Intersystem Biological Survey, will arrive shortly. They should have the resources to tow Eulogy wherever you would like, ah, him?, laid to rest. While they will no doubt have many questions for you, I believe they will respect a diplomatic neutrality.” He paused a moment as his own curiosity prompted him to say more. “Of course, we of the Da'Winn would be highly honored if you permitted us to accompany you on this, mm, funerary expedition. This noble creature has impressed us even in death."
"I am willing to answer questions,” Will replied. “I will travel with you, and I thank you for your hospitality and respect. Please tell me if I can be of aid; Elegy is strong and capable while I ride him."
A transmission came through from the Da'Winn. “Hey Dad! Those guys from the Survey just showed up. They want to know what to do!"
"Ah, me.” Polus tapped his helmet. “It seems Eulogy's prospective pallbearers have arrived, Will. We will need to return to our ship to properly communicate your needs to them. If you would like to join us there, we can easily bring Da'Winn's vehicle bay about for you to take Elegy aboard. In any case, we will converse more, no?” He bowed slightly.
The radios crackled for a brief moment, then Will's voice came through again. “Yes,” he replied. “Your offer is generous, and I accept. Though it is a risk to go with strangers, I would be just as helpless adrift in space. Elegy is not suspicious of you, and his impressions are frequently accurate. We should go."
"I am pleased to hear that you, or rather, Elegy, thinks so well of us. We will head back out the way we came, then, and be glad to have you along."
Polus transmitted a few instructions to the rest of his team and back to the Da'Winn, then ushered them back out into Eulogy's corridors. Though the encounter left them all nervous and on edge--Khan'Tin especially loathed the idea of turning his back on Will and Elegy to have them follow--the thought of helping this alien find a new life among the populated stars sang with prospect of adventure.
A new chapter had begun in the lives of explorer and drifter alike.
Comments:
All right--basically I know how Polus's response will go, here, but I wonder what direction you'd like us to head with this, so I can steer that way if necessary. Polus can easily take Will to Fenris, but that seems a bit out of the way if you want him involved in the bulk of the action, nearer to Alliance territory. On the other hand, if Will's interests lie only/primarily in survival, taking him into a war zone doesn't make a whole lot of sense. ^/^` What are you thinking, from the author side of things? ~SabreCat
I actually think that the best bet would be to have the plan to be simply getting Eulogy to a resting place and having Will be free. However, Eulogy's body is actually an excellent plot hook for Will. He doesn't want to get involved in a war, but what happens if the Gyran forces see it being moved, realize how useful its study could be?
Also, this got long; we should totally split it into two scenes when it goes to Catfox... ~Dog
Aaah. I have the perfect idea for this, mew. Would you prefer I spell it out, or just waylay you and Will with it? ^/^ ~SabreCat
Let's do the latter, unless I should be aware of it to keep things smooth; I think it'd be fun to be surprised. ~Dog
Cool 'nuff! Let's try to wrap up this bit within the next couple of bounces, then, and make the arrival of the Survey, travel out with Eulogy in tow, etc. the next big piece. ~SabreCat
A satisfactory ending, do you think? I'll put this up on GC as soon as you give the okay; if you want to break it up for Catfox, I'll let you handle that posting. ~SabreCat
Can do. I'll post it on catfox now, and you can get it set up on GC at yer leisure. Let's have you do the next post, so that we can establish the Survey's approach and have that stuff taken care of while Will's waiting to dock his rather unusual Mech in the bay.
*chuckles*
Though Catfox seems to be read-only right now for some reason. So I'll get to that shortly. ~Dog
The post is up on Galaxy Corps at http://213.106.83.243/asp/forum.asp?page=28000000000000. ~SabreCat