Predators of the Sixth World - 52
Sorry for being late again. Not lost in writing the side story this time, instead in working on a custom species (and planet and other life on that planet). Anybody on my section of the discord knows and I’m happy to talk about it more to get more opinions.
And now we have the Gojid AAR now that the Concord are heading off. All kinds of fun things, honestly, a bit of a tech showcase. Specifically, the tech that the Gojid have partially figured out exists. Kinda a chance to see not only what they know, but what their tactical minds are able to determine based on their existing biases. We’ll also get to see as Cilany sets off on her next task. She’s got to get over two days of recording and her preliminary investigation edited as well as a piece written up.
You know, with the amount of time that the Gojid had before the Arxur arrived, one has to wonder what happened in other parts of the Union. There were also those military ships that fled the defense before the Concord arrived. Eh, probably nothing.
Synopsis: Magic was once real and present but faded away in the distant past, becoming nothing but the myths and legends we know as the surviving beings fled to other planes, only to publicly return during the Sat Wars. How would it change first contact and beyond? Only one way to find out.
I have a spot on the discord, swing on by! Thanks to SpacePaladin15 for the original universe; my alpha readers, Caro Morin and Jailed Cinder; my beta readers, Angustus_Jan on the discord and u/aroluci (go check out Children of Luna, it’s awesome); and all of you that read and especially comment. Anybody interested in playing around in the AU (be it a one-shot, an impromptu ficnap, a cameo, or something more), let me know and I’ll be more than happy to work with you on it. My current plan is to release a chapter a week, with the occasional bonus, as long as that isn’t too much for everybody helping me.
Without further ado, enjoy!
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Memory Transcription Subject: Prime Minister Piri, Exhausted Executive
Date [Standardized Terran Time]: September 30^(th)****, 2136
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While the emergency had passed, I was still in the command center of the bunker as we watched the last of the Gaian ships leave. The warships. The troop transports. The captured Arxur vessels that were still able to move. The freighters. The technicians who tried to fix our comm relay. Even the Mercy Fleet. They all left as a herd, safety in numbers and controlling their prisoners. The Federation had never captured a single Arxur alive, and yet the Gaians now had hundreds, perhaps more.
Things could have gone worse than they did. Should have gone worse. We made it through with only a few thousand dead. Hundreds taken by the Gaians for care. More as refugees. Neighborhoods and towns erased, but many bunkers saved the people, even if many others didn’t.
The focus of the Arxur on our defenses was a mixed blessing. The destruction of this attack was lessened, but we’ve been left open to others.
I look around the table. A mix of military leaders and those who had been working with the Gaians. The lead technician of the team trying to fix our comm relays. Medics and doctors. Even a botanist who spent a few [hours] talking to a Gaian about the hydroponics technology they released.
I can’t sort the roots from rubble in what the doctor is speaking about, but my advisors will dumb it down if I need to know. Instead, I’m watching some of the footage of Gaian medics in action.
Where ours were safe in bunkers, waiting for the Arxur to leave like they normally would, the Gaians were in action. Running into the midst of combat to save people. Scaling crumbling buildings with the claws and hooks their armor has before swinging down with people in their arms or letting them float down in those pods. Lifting rubble that must weigh as much as entire vehicles. Leaping about with those jets on their backs.
Taking risks that no medical professional in the Federation would. That no exterminator would take. Unarmed. All to save people. My people. People they should hate.
“-nd some of our people overheard them…” The doctor flicks their ears to a Zurulian colleague. “Actually, I think you should explain, Lira. You were one of the ones who heard something about it.”
The Zurulian woman flushes green. “Oh, yes. Well… They didn’t know I was there. That I was close enough to hear. There were holes in the rubble and…” She swallows nervously. “I’m a freezer…” She bats her ears. “Anyway… I could hear the Gaians; one of them was crying. Cursing. Saying they could help so many more people if they weren’t holding back. That if they could just deploy their drones, things would be different.”
“Drones?” Asks the botanist. “Like our farming drones? How could those help?”
“I… I…” Lira stammers. “I don’t know. I just… they said they couldn’t use them. That they couldn’t let us see them. I don’t know why… they were using pods that could slow time. What are drones compared to that?”
Torlin, who is only still around because the pro-Sovlin herd trusts him despite his being against the coup, scoffs.
“Anything useful to add, captain?” Scolds Admiral Rivela, the highest-ranking naval officer currently in the system. “Or can we continue with the meeting?”
“Nothing, ma’am.” He growls. “No, there is something. Holding back? Our people were dying, and they held back! I didn’t confront them when they mentioned it, but how dare they?”
“We should be thankful for any help they gave us!” Shouts Berniq. “We attacked them, tortured one of theirs. It doesn’t matter that Sovlin was committing treason in that. He was part of our herd. It was our responsibility to stop him. We should have seen what he was. We should have stopped him.”
“Well said.” Rivela adds. “Some of us had our doubts, not enough, none with any evidence. We should have done something. The Gaians had no reason to help us. I might not know why they held anything back, but I can’t blame them for it. I will not tolerate fomenting unrest or a desire to attack the Gaians within our ranks, am I understood?”
Torlin scowls, but his ears signal understanding.
“Good.” Berniq taps her claws on the table. “I’ve heard similar reports from our ground forces. That the Gaians weren’t using their recon and medical drones. A few implied, to each other, it had something to do with their designs. Given everything, I assume that they have no reason to fear predators, and some of the drones may even take inspiration from them. It could be as simple as the Gaians not wanting to cause a stampede.”
“Great, more secrecy.” Sighs Admiral Kirna, the woman in charge of our engineering corps. Normally, almost as skittish as a Venlil, but when she’s talking tech, she’s as bold as a Krakotl. “We heard some similar things regarding rubble and rebuilding. Maybe they have drones for construction, too. But I think there are more important things we should be focusing on.”
“Oh, yes? What has the engineers so interested?” Torlin inquires facetiously. “The wood? How about the crystals?”
“Everything.” Kirna sighs wistfully. She pulls out a small chunk of wood in a case, pulling up photos and data on it. “Take this wood, for example.”
“The main material of their tech?” Asks Berniq.
“Yes!” She indicates in the data showing a very slight increase in the size and mass of the piece over time. “This came from a piece that was originally about two times its size before an Arxur round damaged it. By all rights, the wood should be dead. Not just because it was used in a piece of technology, but also due to the damage. It’s repairing itself.” She focuses the image on something visible under the bark. “Do you see that? That’s fungus! From the looks of it at the other edges, it connected the individual wood scales.”
The botanist gasps. “Wait, I’ve seen papers on something like that. An… ex-herdmate had me review it. They suggested that plants could share resources through some sort of fungal network. I… I obviously reported them to the Guild… I lost track of them after that…”
“Oh…” Kirna pauses. “That’s… uh… what we think it was doing.” She clears her throat, pulling up a video of a machine trying to cut the bark with a blade, only to have the tip bend. “It’s harder than steel. Somehow, they’ve created living materials that outperform our ship hulls. Grown in panels that are attached together and use this fungus to become a single, living network. We have samples of the crystal, too. They’re practically quartz but have similar properties to the wood. It’s miraculous.”
‘Protector, if they can grow their ships and technology, then how fast can they build fleets?’
The room erupts into a stampede of whispers, but Kirna presses on, bringing up a video of a Gaian fighter soaring through a city with an Arxur ship on its tail. The wood and crystal seem as intimidating as they are beautiful now. Readouts show data on it. The shields fail under a missile hit, leaving the hull exposed, despite the Gaian data saying it was at half shielding, as the chasing Arxur craft starts firing with its ballistics, only for them to stop on another shield bubble that the sensors can’t pick up. Moments later, as the craft reach the city’s edge, a beam of scintillating light shoots out. The Arxur craft’s shields do nothing as the light cuts it in half. The sensors pick up nothing but the light itself.
Kirna’s ears are high. “Based on what was said about the beams by the Gaian Admiral, we can be reasonably certain they have esoteric shields, equal in strength to the normal ones. We’ve tried everything; no known sensor can detect their esoterics. That means we can only assume their recharge rate and capacity based on the standard shields.”
I can’t help but think of how powerful their shields registered as being. If they’re truly twice as tough… Their fighters are more durable than our capital ships.
“And?” Asks Rivela. “What’s the recharge rate? Please tell me there’s some weakness. Their fighters can outrange and outshield our cruisers while using guns we can’t see. There has to be a weakness.”
“The same as ours, five-thirds percent of their maximum capacity. Same delay without any significant drain for the charging to start, too.” Kirna seems elated. “The Gaians are new to interstellar travel, but they must be… one, maybe two hundred rotations ahead of us.” She brings up a pair of readouts. They’re almost identical, but I can’t, for the life of me, read these things. “Take this, for example. On the left is our current generation FTL drive reading, on the right is from the Gaian ships. If you control for speed, they’re nearly identical. Yet the Gaians get one and a half to two times our speeds when their engines are fully intact.” She pulls up a third reading. “And their damaged ships were even closer, matching our speeds.”
“Couldn’t that mean that they’re using their esoterics to upgrade our shield generators and drives?” Rivela asks.
“I assume so, but they’re still ahead. It’s fascinating.” She pauses before bringing up other readings. “And look at their infantry! Powered armor, some of it with personal shields! They’re using coilguns! And those melee weapons, some were emitting ultrahigh frequency sound while others were generating electroplasma around their surfaces! Obviously, we have vibroswords that some exterminators use, but the Gaian ones are able to cut through things ours never could and operate at variable frequencies and amplitudes while having no detectible power source!”
“Oh!” Exclaims one of the doctors. “Some of our tools vibrate like that, it allows them to cut better. You can score metal with them if you aren’t careful.”
“That is fascinating! I didn’t see any reports on our vibroswords' effects on materials aside from flesh and bone.” Kirna exclaims. “Perhaps they’ve designed them to defeat their own armor and shields? Their other weapons certainly would. Ours are less successful. Short of plasma and grenade launchers, the only options we have that can defeat their armor are heavy-duty flamethrowers. Those used for colonization and fighting raids.”
She pulls up another video, this one of Gaian ships using beams, either from their hulls or small pods the smallcraft were equipped with. “They have attachable lasers, low power but enough to cut through unshielded hulls.” A map of the system appears, part of it highlighted. “It took them almost no time to sequester the debris from the combat; they seemed to be splitting it up based on material and radioactivity. From there, they started to take it into their ships via bays, and what I assume to be specially designed intakes. Including cutting up the Arxur craft, the Gaians had erased every trace of a fight, outside of our own ships and their debris, in less than a day. That’s including putting all they could of our destroyed craft in one area.”
“And what does that mean?” Rivela asks.
“That either they’re used to combat, which is highly unlikely given their… everything, or that they have advanced asteroid mining capabilities. We’ve experimented with it and have theories of what it would enable, but it’s so much easier to just find a new resource-rich world or moon, even if they aren’t habitable. Their resource extraction capabilities are likely beyond anything we’ve even considered! Their larger ships may even be made in space and be unable to ever land!” Kirna’s ears flutter with excitement. “I believe that their larger ships have extended, or infinite, endurance due to asteroid mining capabilities! I would love to get some schematics!”
Berniq huffs. “Seems like you’re interested in meeting the Gaians, Kirna.”
“No, no.” She pins her ears down. “I’d love to examine their tech, but… I don’t think I want to meet them. They… No, that’s a job for a diplomat. I… um… I’m done…”
I flick an ear towards Imdric, one of the people in charge of managing the Gaian supplies and getting the rebuilding started. “How are things progressing?”
“We could certainly have worse issues.” The laconic Gojid says with a smirk. “I can see how they could offset the entire Federation’s economic input to the Venlil Republic. We almost have too much of everything. It came perfectly organized; we just need to move things around a bit. Raw materials for building and restarting industry. Food, fresh and preserved. Medical supplies. Even luxuries like art supplies.” He gestures to an aide, who heads off. “We supplied the food for the meeting from what they sent.”
A group of aides move around, setting out food for everybody present. I let out a hum as I take a nibble of the meal that I was served. Something the Gaians had left. One of the more delightful liar’s stiplets that I’ve had, even with it lacking the crispness from the freshly fried dish. I eye the rest with interest. A pouch of a white tuber mash; another of charred mixed vegetables; a third of some sort of bean, I think; some sort of dried plant mash that smells deliciously savory; a mix of nuts, seeds, dried fruit, and small pieces of a brown substance; flat strayu; three flat strayu disks with more of that brown substance inside; a roll of dried, mashed fruit; and two drinks. One, a steaming tea, and the other, an unsettlingly blood colored fluid that smells of fruit.
“You said the Gaians left us with these?” I ask.
“Yes, ma’am. Literal tons of them.”
“Why? They won’t keep!” I exclaim.
“They will,” sighs Imdric. “Preserved, prepackaged meals that use a bit of water to rehydrate and heat.” He slides a brown package across the table, printed on it in Gojidi is a description of the contents, calling it a ready-to-eat meal and giving the simple instructions to heat. Hastily scrawled in some sort of marker is liar’s stiplet. “Turns out they figured out strayu and liar’s stiplet on their own. They have a few different meal options. They make them for their soldiers to eat in the field, in addition to food paste they can eat without leaving the armor. Away from their mobile bases that are producing fresh food and materials.”
“How long do they expect their soldiers to fight for?” Kirna asks.
“Days. Weeks. All without returning to base.” Berniq sighs. “Apparently, they’re as tireless as they seem. Yet they’ve designed their small craft and even their bases to ensure they’re never without resupply.”
The bunker is silent as we process that information. I turn my ears towards Branik as I eat. “How are we doing on restoring communications?”
He flinches. “We can’t, ma’am. The Gaians…” He sighs. “Took them almost no time to figure out what we couldn’t in days. Our relays had their transmission capability shut down.”
Torlin growls. “That much was obvious. The question is how.”
“That’s what I meant, a command was sent to silence them, first ours, then propagating to the entire Union. They called it a kill switch.” After a few moments of silence, Branik continues. “We’re still trying to figure out where it came from and how it works, but the command seems purpose-built for this. A base part of the system that’s been there for hundreds of rotations. The logs say it came from Aafa, but the Gaians talked about something… some way of bouncing a signal through multiple relays to hide the origin point. The Gaians took an image of the relay’s environment to figure out a workaround. In the meantime, they rerouted any distress signals to use their systems to contact the Concord as a backup.”
‘As if we didn’t owe them enough?!?’ My spines flare. “They did what?”
“If any of our worlds sends a distress signal, they’ll pick up on it and respond since we can’t contact the Federation. A bit more direct than what happened with all this.” Branik says. “They said it was the neighborly thing to do. One of their technicians, Gadget, she said she’d try to send me an update if they find anything more out.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Torlin asks. “They’re responsible. The Gaians sent the signal.”
The entire room tenses. Spines flaring, and most glaring at the man. A few paws even drift to their holsters.
“Choose your next words carefully, boy,” Berniq warns.
“Of course, ma’am,” Torlin smirks, drawing a growl from the general. “It’s too convenient. The Arxur attack, we lose connection to the Federation and the rest of the Union, then the Gaians are not only able to get our calls, but they were in place to arrive faster than any Federation ship could be.”
One could hear a seed drop in the silence that followed before Berniq began to laugh. Most of us followed. When they finally got themself composed, the General spoke. “I’m infantry, and even I know enough about sensor logs to know that’s a load of predshit.” The mirth leaves Berniq’s voice as they continue. “They didn’t come stampeding in half-dead. They came in fast, clean, and brutal. They told us, we did not ask, we were told, that they burned their drives to reach us in time, leaving them at parity with us. This wasn’t a miracle. It wasn’t a gift from the Protector. It wasn’t a predator trap. It was a warning. These aren’t saviors from the skies; they’re soldiers. Soldiers who knew how much time we had and exactly what it would cost to meet it. Who knew it would cost them lives to save our own. That people like you would kill them for the crime of saving us. Soldiers that, if not for their leadership being more forgiving than we ever would, could have been our enemies because of what people like you let Sovlin do. If they wanted us conquered, we would be, and I doubt we would have resisted. If they wanted us dead, they didn’t need to lift a claw.”
Torlin leaps to his feet, slamming his paws against the table. “And what would you know!?! You’re nothing but a soft-spined, moss-chewing, rot-hearted thing. You reject the Protector’s designs and side with predators!” He fumbles for where a holster would be, if he hadn’t been disarmed. “Go chew a bone!”
“I believe,” I say calmly, “that would be conduct unbecoming.”
“And attempted murder of a superior officer.” Intones Admiral Rivela. “Get him out of here. Have him tested for predator disease.”
Before the soldiers assigned to security can reach him, Torlin is diving for Rivela’s pistol. There’s a solid thunk as her prosthetic paw impacts the ex-captain’s snout. The metal limb forcing him back with the sound of something cracking. Torlin falls on his ass, blue flowing from his face.
I sigh. “I’d like for every member of our military with past experience as part of the Guild to be put up for review.”
Kirna starts. “What? Why?”
“Because,” Berniq drawls, “if we’re ever active near the Gaians again, they’re a risk. To our people, to the Gaians, and to peace. Protector knows that we should be at war right now.”
“And everything they said…” I trail off.
“They’re predator diseased, right?” Kirna asks. “Speaking to animals? To plants? Hearing planets? Everything they said… about the exterminators… about the facilities… about our planets… it has to be predator disease…”
I can’t help but think back to that. To that Cilany has footage of it. If she releases that… There’s no way the Gaians would ever be allowed into the Federation, not if what they said gets out. But… do we even want to stay? Between the Gaians and the Federation, which is better?
“The Emissary turned into a bird…” I say.
“Does it matter?” Berniq questions. “We all saw what they could do. We saw them help where the Federation failed us. We’d be fools not to at least follow the laws they set forth.”
“Um…” Branik hems.
“Go on,” I urge.
“Gadget… She mentioned that the esoterics… they call them magic. She… she said they can do things that are magic.” He shifts nervously. “Said it was commonplace. I… I don’t think she was supposed to tell me some of it.”
“Like what?” Kirna leans in, ears high and eager.
“Oh… um… Well… She complained about being on her cycle, but… but she also mentioned that she was born male. It was the only thing she considered a downside, but… but she wanted to have a baby one day, so it was worth it. That it was their magic that…” Branik swallows loudly. “Their people can have their bodies changed with magic. She also… she was considering getting… getting something installed to let her control technology with her mind.”
“THEY WHAT!?!?” A doctor exclaims. “How?”
“I.. I don’t know…” Branik flushes blue. “I asked. She mentioned something about a trance, and then she changed over a few days.”
“Is that really surprising?” I ask. “After what happened to me? After the Emissary’s claims that both of his parents are gods?” I rub at my temples, hoping to wall off the oncoming headache as the room erupts in a verbal stampede. It’s going to be a long meeting.
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Memory Transcription Subject: Cilany, Elated Reporter
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I’m embarrassed to admit, it took me a while to figure out how to summon the craft I came here on. Who would have thought that it was as simple as finding an app that had installed itself on my pad at some point.
I can’t help but think about Meiqo and Kora. I hope they’re ok, wherever they are. If they’re alive.
If I think about everything else, I might break.
My pad buzzes with an alert as the Mirage touches down. I hop off the spaceport bench and head out to where the ship is waiting. As I approach, the door opens, and the ramp lowers, all on its own.
I pause a moment before heading in, the ship closing behind me. A voice speaks. “Hello, Miss Cilany, I have been informed that you will be taking command of this vessel and have, within reason, full access. You may call me Echo. I am the ship’s artificial intelligence.”
“Artificial intelligence?”
A screen activates, displaying a series of rippling circles. With every sound, they distort. “I am a non-sentient digital construct designed to manage the ship’s systems, act as an interface for you, including performing information access and retrieval, handle any paperwork or other bureaucratic needs, act as a general assistant for you, and give you the appearance that I am both sentient and sapient. Consider me your chauffeur, concierge, and valet.” The image shifts, somehow bringing to mind the bows Farsul will give to show respect.
“Can you change your appearance?” I question, gasping when the image turns into that of an attractive Harchen male, patterns in their scales shifting hypnotically.
There’s a tinge of mischief in the pattern as they ask. “Does this please you, mistress?”
“I wasn’t going to ask you to do it, but that is much more comforting. Thank you.” I pause. “Will I have access to where Meiqo and Kora were?”
“Yes, mistress. However, I have already cleaned and taken the liberty of moving your things to the main suite, and you will not have access to engineering spaces. You will not find any secrets I am not already approved to share.”
I start to explore, somewhat disappointed by this new section not looking all that different. “They mentioned that they left toys. Could you tell me about them?”
“Of course,” Echo says, their image walking beside me on screens that reveal themselves as I pass, otherwise looking like part of the wall. “I can give an in-depth briefing if desired, but the summary is that the ship has a suite of both reconnaissance drones and journalistic drones, both of Gaian make. I have already recalled the drones that were deployed on this world to provide additional viewing angles to those in the bunker. The recon drones will be limited to use in non-Concord-aligned space and in ways that are legal for a journalist in the Concord when in allied space. Outside of allied space, such usage restrictions will not be followed. I will, however, be acting as a filter for the information received by them. I am first and foremost the property of the Concord’s intelligence agencies. I will protect their operations towards creating a lasting peace. I believe you will find the recon drones more useful; the capabilities are less tuned for live reporting, but their stealth and scouting abilities more than make up for that, and their recording capabilities are more than sufficient.”
“Stealth?”
“Yes, some of the drones possess the capability to activate a cloaking field that makes detecting their presence more difficult.”
I stumble, whitening with shock. “They can do what?”
“Do you need me to repeat myself, mistress?”
“No, no. Echo, how long would it take to reach Aafa?”
“Fastest reasonable time?”
“If you’d please.”
“Approximately five days.”
“Five days!?”
“Yes, mistress. When the conditions are right, such as being outside of the range of most Federation or Dominion sensors and ships, the Mirage can activate retrofitted Concord systems. That will allow me to reduce the travel time. An optimal route would put us slightly under four and a half days of travel. Unfortunately, there is currently chatter suggesting that there is a convoy of ships heading to Grenelka and movement of Krakotl Alliance ships, which will likely delay us by half a day. Hence five.”
“Oh… um… well… Do we have the supplies?”
“Yes, mistress. This ship is equipped with a number of systems, including automated medical facilities, a bioreactor, and hydroponics. Without resupply, you can remain in deep space for months before needing to worry about stores.”
“Then plot a course and let’s get going, Echo.”
“Excellent. I have taken the liberty of creating a collection of Federation media for your entertainment, as well as tips and rumors that the Concord’s Central Intelligence Service believes you may find interesting. If you would like to start editing the footage from the cradle, I can put on some background music. I can also aid you in the editing process. I’ve already taken the liberty of noting sections with minimal to no activity.“
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Memory Transcription Subject: Tavro, Harchen Border Monitor
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“Ugh… I hate this job. Sit and wait and wait and sit.” I groan, slumping in my seat. “The only thing to break up the sitting and waiting is logging the occasional freighter or passenger ship heading through. Maybe something military if we’re lucky. Why can’t anything exciting ever happen?”
“What? You want a raid?” Elyra grumps. “And what’s so bad about a job where you spend all shift with your girlfriend?”
“The part where if Zirep catches us talking, then we might get fired. That old sandsli-” I’m interrupted by the beeping of a ship entering range while blaring a distress signal. My claws fly across the keys as I open a hail. “Gojid ship, what is the nature of your emergency?”
“Help! You need to send help! They’re attacking, please help!”
Elyra tints with confusion. “We’re not registering any other ships? Who is attacking?”
“The cradle. They’re attacking the cradle.”
“Who?” I gasp. “The Gaians?”
“No! The Grays. I… I ran as soon as reports came in.”
“We aren’t seeing any distress signal from the cradle.” Says Elyra. “We’ll forward your report. Please move along.”
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Advance 3 STD hours
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“You just had to ask for something exciting…” Groans Elyra.
Gojid ships have been arriving, some by themselves, some in herds. All with the same story. At some point, they started mentioning that communications were down. The cradle had likely fallen. Almost two thousand Arxur ships. As soon as we had the numbers… Our station was being kept up to date on plans to send aid. Now… Now we’re only getting ready for refugees.
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Advance 23 STD hours
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Nothing had really changed. Not even between the end of our last shift and this one.
“Tavro! That’s a herd of military ships!”
I barely have a chance to see them before I accept their hail. “Border station. We aren’t sure what you’ve been told. We have updates based on last reports.” The Gojid on the call’s spines are flared. “Much of the cradle’s defensive fleet is gone, and Piri claims that the primitives are en route to help.”
“What?” I pause a moment. “The Yotul don’t have a fleet?”
“The Gaians!” The Gojid grumbles. “Ending hail, I’m going to try to get through to the Federation Navy proper.”
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Advance 28 STD hours
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Things had calmed down significantly. So much so that both Elyra and I were starting to doze during our shift. Then a beeping draws our attention. A small Gojid shuttle. Scored with fire. I answer the hail. The man piloting looks worse for wear, fur and spines a mess, patched cuts and scrapes. A plasma burn on his shoulder and a bandage on his face. A PD collar around his neck.
“This is Captain Torlin of the Gojid Navy…” He pauses, tears in his eyes. “It is my sad duty to report that due to the interference of the Gaians, the Gojid Union has fallen to predatory influences.”
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