u/The-Arcalian

Sixteen centuries.

It was a long time to know that your people were dying.

They called themselves the Laoxoan. They had arisen so long ago they no longer had a historical record of when it was. They didn't even know which of their three early worlds was their homeworld, it was so long ago. From what they did know, and what Emu's team could extrapolate from their records, they had spread beyond those three worlds over one hundred and seventy thousand years ago.

1700 centuries.

This was long before any of the known races had arisen. Early Vemali and Gulbren explorers had left their respective home systems little more than eight centuries ago. During that time, they had found no remnants or ruins of older civilizations. Nor had the Laoxoan ever reached their parts of the galaxy; they had been further coreward, and their expansion, in according with their nature, had been much slower.

It would be inaccurate, Emu thought, to say that the Laoxoan viewed Humans and the other races they knew as children. That required emotional investment. And that was something the Laoxoan simply didn't have.

Not anymore.

One thousand six hundred and nine years ago, the Laoxoan breeding process, always a slow a cautious thing to begin with, had simply....

Stopped.

Emu shook her head; she couldn't even imagine it. Sure, Human reproductive rates had dropped from time to time; the last time of note had been in the early 21st century, before the colonization of Mars. But it had never dropped to zero.

Laoxoan were evasive about the reason. There were vague references to fertility problems, societal pressures, and to some children being born “strange”.

“Surely you had the genetic engineering to resolve these issues?” Lieutenant Hart had pointed out.

“We tried,” the spokesman Laoxoan replied. “To no avail.”

Hart wanted to argue the point more, but Emu waved him to silence. To her, the truth was obvious.

They simply...didn't care.

They had grown tired. Old. Weary.

Will that happen to us too? She wondered. Assuming we face no greater threats that finish us?

She asked the Laoxoan if they had met any other races. The Laoxoan's reply had been tinged through the translator with humor; it was clear the older race knew the motivation behind the question. They had, in their time, known two other races. The first, the Ksalikas, a blobby, almost formless race of gastropods, had gone mad and destroyed themselves some twenty one centuries ago. The second, the Yerfillag, clever shapeshifters, had simply left for parts unknown, their ships warping out of the Galaxy three centuries ago.

“After your infertility,” Emu pointed out.

“They tried to help us,” the Laxoan agreed.

Emu didn't press the point. But she suspected it was because the Laoxoan didn't want help.

Suicidal thoughts and apathy were not unknown to Humans, of course; some of her own ancestors had struggled with it. But for an entire species to just give up? She didn't see how. She couldn't say “impossible” when the evidence was right in front of her. And she still feared it for Humanity.

But the best way to prevent it was to study it. To understand why.

The Laoxoan struggled to explain it. “What more is left to do?”

“Everything,” Emu replied without, having to think about it.

The Laoxoan looked at her strangely, then turned away.

–

They shared their technology freely enough, but Emu particularly was interested in the path out of the Galaxy that the Yerfillag had taken. She transmitted all data to the Bureau, of course.

Humanity would be the first and foremost to benefit from this technology, but most of it would gradually filter out to the rest of the galaxy.

And still they were not done; in addition to limited colonization here, around the old Laoxoan settlements, they still had to find other systems to settle.

But for Emu what would haunt her the most was the empty indifference in their eyes.

Humanity would not suffer this fate.

A few short years passed. And it was the Justice Bureau who formed an exploration force to colonize further out on the frontier. There was some debate about this in the Bureau's own halls, as protecting citizens from crime was their mandate. But it was argued they were promoting and protecting Humanity's future. This argument led to a few people leaving the Bureau, but the majority agreed with the decision.

Humanity was furthest inward on the Orion arm, and had quietly founded colonies beyond the Rendavon world they had acquired outward. So technically, Humanity now controlled both ends of Known Space. But they kept quiet about this. The Rendavon knew, but dismissed these outer colonies as minor. Humanity preferred they keep thinking that way. While not unified under one ruler, and not all Humans knew, the leaders of all important nations and factions knew that Humanity was spreading in both directions. Greater drives to cross the gulf between arms were in discussion, and they were working on the prototypes. But the Justice Bureau itself didn't know that, yet.

Emu Rocksley had originally been a musician, but as she grew older she was recruited by the Justice Bureau to join one of their colonial efforts.

Scientists of the twentieth and twenty first centuries had believed that there was only a narrow band of planets capable in supporting life in the Galaxy, owing to the age of the stars and the resulting composition of the planets. But, like the impudent Yaekerin student years later, they were incorrect in their understanding. These planets were capable of life and did, indeed, have the relevant resources, in spite of their observations. As time went on, more and more people, scientists included, were returning to faith. It had never really gone away, of course. But now was a great revival the likes of which had never previously been seen.

Several worlds had already been quietly settled by the Bureau's initiative. In theory, they were independent worlds. In practice, the Bureau quietly supported them and provided basic governance and infrastructure. The Justice Bureau was becoming a faction in it's own right. This was complicated by the fact that not all Bureau members were Human. A few Zrelvians and Rendavon were included amongst the colonists to quash any objections. But the colonies were more than 98% Human.

So it was that Emu stood on the flight deck of a dark Human ship, leading a convoy of colony ships behind it. All ships had stealth drive, of course.

This was not a military ship; while the Bureau had it's own ranks and protocol, they weren't super tight on discipline even in their main investigative branch. The colonial branch was even more so. Emu was relaxed in her command chair. Not asleep, but casually relaxed, eyes half closed.

She often doubted she was worthy of this assignment. Or any other, really. But her gruff old mentor back at the Bureau had insisted she was ready. She smiled bitterly; he was a feisty, difficult old man. She missed him.

The star was unusual, a yellowish-blue, something else earlier scientists had not foreseen. One of the changes space travel had brought was that people viewed science more and more of a tool, and less of an answer to everything. There were four planets, but...

“We're picking signals from the second planet,” said her favored Lieutenant, Norman Hart, from the crew pit. “There's already someone here!”

“What?” Emu bolted upright from her command chair. “Low level native species, or...?”

“It's strange....” Hart frowned. “The tech is radically advanced, maybe more even than ours, but...”

“But?” she prompted.

“It's sparse, and...decaying. Old.” Hart shrugged. “I don't understand it.”

But Emu did. A chill went through her bones. “An ancient civilization. Think of what they could teach us!”

“Respectfully sir,” Hart said, “We don't know that for sure.”

Emu smiled. “No, but it's the most likely theory. Anyway, let's go find out.”

“We probably can't colonize here then,” said Sensor Operative Dukele.

Emu shrugged. “This was only the first system we were looking at to colonize. There are others.”

“If this is a First Contact situation,” Lieutenant Hart said carefully, “This may expose the Bureau's colony efforts to the larger galaxy.”

Emu nodded; she was pleased at Hart's priorities. “So we send a tight beam, encrypted message to Justice Bureau HQ and let them figure out what information to disseminate. But first, we have to find out what information to send them, hmmm?”

“Perhaps we should try hailing them first,” Hart said.

“Passive scans from the planet,” Dukele cut in. “Very low level, odd frequencies. Nowhere near as intense as we scanned them.”

Emu nodded, waiting a moment to see if a communications signal would be next. After a pause, she looked down at Hart. “All right, hail them.”

“This is the Justice Bureau ship Fertilis,” said Hart on broadcast. “Greetings, we mean no harm.”

There was a pause, then a slow, warbling voice said, “Welcome, young ones. We will not obstruct you.”

Emu frowned. “Do you mind if we come down to the planet to talk?”

“If it pleases you,” the alien voice replied.

Emu exchanged glances with Hart, Bukele, and the rest of the bridge pit crew; the unenthusiastic response was...not inspiring.

–

They took a shuttle down to the planet. The air was thick in human lungs, but breathable; and the sky was a rich green. Another thing ancient scientists would have siad was impossible.

The alien structures, such as they were, were low glass domes situated amongst the trees. The aliens them selves were quadrupedal, with thick hair and deep, mournful eyes.

“Hello!” Emu said to the nearest one. “We mean you no harm and seek only to explore the planet.”

The alien looked back at her. “You are a colonization effort,” it said in a voice similar to the one on the radio, but sounding deeply tired as well. “Most of the planet is available to you. We ask only that you not disrupt our own habitation.

“That is uh...” Emu faltered. “Good to know, but surely we can negotiate? Discuss cultures? Trade?”

“As you like. We have no objection to you learning from our technology. As for trade, I doubt you have anything we need. Cultures are always different.”

Bukele and Hart muttered in confusion behind her.

Emu wasn't sure how to take this. The tone of the alien wasn't cruel, rude, or arrogant. It simply didn't seem to care.

And then it hit her, like a blast of cold water.

“Oh my God,” she breathed in a mixture of horror and sympathy. “They're not just old....they're dying.”

The alien looked her in the eye. “Yes.”