First Contact

Chapter 949: The Setting Sun

We took precautions.

That's the first thing to know, is that we didn't open it casually.

After we found the artifact on a dead world, we knew we were running a huge risk just having it at all, much less trying to activate it.

So, we took precautions.

First, a triple-layer phasic shield.

Then a cage to drain electromagnetic energy into the planet's crust.

Then a quadruple energy shield to cover remaining electromagnetic leakage, and kinetic force.

Then cased the whole room in a giant bubble of lead to protect against radiation.

Precautions.

We had no idea.

When we opened it, at first we were convinced that it was unpowered; it unfolded easily, a simple slide latch freeing the halves to hinge apart. But after a few seconds, one half began to illuminate, and there was a single sharp beeping sound.

The illuminated half began to display text at high speed, scrolling quickly through a long list of error checks and operational functions.

Then it changed to color.

And... Something... Crawled out of it.

In fifteen seconds every researcher in the room was dead, and more than dead; we watched as the... Thing... Ate the life essence of the researchers, grabbing through their flesh with its grasping talons and pulling something out of them that screamed as it was torn apart and consumed.

The thing battered itself against the phasic shield once, then the creature simply tore the phasic shield apart.

Fortunately, the power supply of the artifact failed rapidly. The artifact turned itself off, and the ravenous thing that it had freed gradually faded from sight, bashing through the shielding one layer at a time even as it dissipated.

We left the bubble sealed. Never open it.

And we learned one reason that they were called The Terror.

They were feared for good reason.

And I'm very much afraid that they're still with us and we just don't know where. -Incident Log 491, AT 36819, maintained in security section of Federal Records

>How prepared was the team?

The Xeno-Archeology team was well prepared, well equipped, well trained, and some even had experience at dealing with Terror artifacts, relics, and xeno-archeology sites. The two ships were carefully built to precise specifications. There were backups and backups for the backups of the backups backups.

>What was your target?

The target was a Warsteel Forerunner site on the third planet of a highly energetic yellow sun. The site was massive, despite the extremely aggressive plant life and tectonic activities and weather systems of the planet.

>What made the site so special?

For a change, it didn't appear to be a military site. From all appearances, the massive site, nearly fifteen kilometer in diameter, was a civilian area. Some of the buildings were hermetically sealed and the scientific expedition had hopes of getting inside the buildings to recover items that had effectively been in storage since the Precursor/Forerunner Contention.

All of it did us no good.

>Can you explain, in your own words, what happened to cause the failure of the expedition?

It wasn't an expedition failure, it was... well... we don't really have a concept for it.

>Just do the best you can.

We dropped into the system at the Oort Cloud, which has been determined to be the best entry point for Warsteel Forerunner systems. Once we had determined that there were no automated defense systems targeting us, we moved in system under low drive power.

[sounds of rapid breathing]

We were just past the orbits of the outer three planets, two frozen rocky planets and a hypermassive gas giant, when it happened.

[more rapid breathing]

At the time, I was on board the Joy of Discovery, a simple twenty crew member vessel mainly dedicated to orbital overwatch. As such, we had extensive sensor systems designed for close range and to compensate for interference.

I was on watch, the Senior Bridge Officer, second ranking to the Captain, who was in his quarters sleeping.

Sensors reported a sudden energy flare. The distinctive signs of the burning Alpha Plane, as well as the flare of a jumpspace core detonating.

The sensor officer and the scanning officer reported it and I sounded General Quarters as well as alerted the Acquisition of Knowledge and the Secret Wrester of what we had detected. They confirmed within a minute they had detected the same thing.

Curious, all three ships moved toward the energy pulse, the Wrester and the Acquisition in the lead, as I was out of position by point two light seconds.

[breathing picks up speed]

We detected a ship. Not just any ship, but a massive ship, weighing in the terratonnes. It had no energy signature and its sensor profile was unmistakable.

It was a Warsteel Forerunner derelict.

Very few of those had been found in recent centuries.

We were moving in on it, the com channels abuzz with excitement at finding such a relic, when it came over the speakers.

[breathing becomes erratic, shallow, and fast]

I remember it vividly. I can almost hear it.

A signal. Someone attempting to hail another ship.

>Take your time. Calm down. Can you tell us what you heard?

No. Not right now. Just that it was broadcasting.

>Was it a distress signal? An automated distress beacon perhaps?

No. The broadcast wasn't that. Well, not quite. We understood it. How could we not? The words just didn't make sense.

Not then.

>So the derelict was broadcasting it in Forerunner Standard Language?

NO! Don't you understand, it was broadcasting in our native language! Ours!

>Could it have been our own lexicons and universal translators?

NO! The broadcast was in OUR language! Ours!

>Calm down. Please.

[rapid breathing slows]

The Wrester and the Acquisition both moved into visual range of it and launched shuttlecraft to board what was obviously a valuable and important discovery.

The broadcast made me nervous, so I ordered the Chief Electronic Warfare Officer to launch drones and give me a triangulation on the broadcast.

>What made you nervous about it?

Just... it made me nervous.

[breathing begins to quicken]

The two boarding parties, consisting of fifty armed and armored troops, managed to dock at, oddly enough, the same time. Both parties managed to board the derelict at the same time.

That's when things got worse.

[breathing picks up]

>How so?

We began getting conflicting reports from the two boarding teams. One had to be wrong, there was no way, even with the size of the ship, that both were correct. That both reports from the boarding teams could be happening at the same time.

>Explain what Team One was reporting

They were reporting, at the time, largely the same as Team Two.

Team One was reporting that the ship showed very little signs of damage. There was no power, no atmosphere, but the emergency lights were still on. They made for the bridge, and while they had to skirt damage, they managed to make their way their quickly.

Team One reported finding a dead Warsteel Forerunner sitting on the bridge in the Captain's Throne, still clad in their shipboard environmental suit. Team One reported the faceplate was cracked with a single puncture in the middle of the visor.

It was there that everything changed.

>Describe what Team Two was reporting.

Team Two was reporting the ship had power but was heavily damaged, with pockets of atmosphere. There were dead Warsteel Forerunner remains, as well as Treana'ad, Mantid Engineer Servitor, Reptilian, and other Fallen Confederacy Species from the time of the Precursor/Forerunner Contention. They reported the dead looked as if they were killed during ship to ship action. They followed a different route than Team One.

Team Two, at the same time as Team One, managed to gain access to the bridge. There, they reported the entire bridge crew was dead in their seats, with visible damage to their shipboard environmental suits, including amputated limbs or severed torsos.

Team Two reported that the central holotank had power, as did some of the bridge crew stations and moved to attempt to bring the ship's system online in order to download data.

That was when everything changed for Team Two.

[breathing speeds up]

>How so?

Team One reported the ship was dead, no power. They would attempt to restore emergency power, or perhaps use the portable reactors to bring power to the bridge. They began setting up.

Team Two suddenly reported they were under attack.

>From what?

The dead.

>Surely that must be mistaken

According to Team Two a green glow began to emanate from the eyes and mouths of the deceased remains. When the glow subsided slightly, the eyes turned red on the deceased and they immediately released their harnesses to attack Team Two.

Team Two Leader ordered his team to fall back to the shuttle.

>And Team One

They were maneuvering, hoping to find an intact engineering station.

>How long did this go on?

Nearly fifteen minutes. Team Two was taking heavy casualties.

Team One reported they were under attack.

>From what?

Automated mechanical devices. Not of Forerunner make. Ship to ship warfare robots.

It was then that the EM officer reported a concern to me that made me order the ship to go to full reverse.

>What was that.

The transmission, the one in our own language, wasn't coming from the derelict.

>Where was it coming from?

It was coming from US. It was being broadcast by all three scientific ships. At least, triangulation showed us all as the originating point source, despite the fact the communications officer reported that it was impossible.

>How was it impossible?

Our ships do not use that frequency for communication or anything else. Especially a scientific ship.

>Why not?

[breathing slows]

It is the most commonly used Fallen Confederacy channel.

>So the communication was coming from the three ships of the scientific team?

Yes.

>And you ordered your ship to retreat?

>Yes.

[breathing picks up]

>What happened next?

The ship, the Wrest and the Acquistion all vanished from our sensors.

>They went to lightspeed?

No. They just vanished. No energy surges, no jumpflare, no nothing.

They were just there one second and gone the next.

[breathing become fast and shallow]

Even the transmissions ended.

They were just gone.

Gone like they never existed.

The three ships, all the drones. Just gone.

>What did you do next?

We searched the area, looking for them, for nearly six days.

We gave up on the sixth day and returned home to report.

>Did you purge or otherwise alter ship records?

I told you before, no.

>Do you know that there is no record of the derelict you claim you saw or boarded?

Yes.

I also know that the ship recordings show us making manuevers.

It also does not contain any communications. Not from the strange ship, not from the boarding crews.

Nothing.

>We are at a loss to explain the loss of those ships.

You and me both.

>Thank you for your time.

--Excerpt from Scientific Xenoarcheology Team X3817A14 Post-Mission Inquiry, 2,520 Current Era.

"Yorktown, do you read? I have you on visual... and are in shuttle range. Do you read?... " - Only log entry in ship computer database aboard derelict ship identified as Secret Wrester, a Dra.falten Scientific Vessel reported lost with all hands. Vessel discovered 3,268 Current Era.

Nakteti straightened up, wiping her mouth, from where she had been bent over, vomiting into the bucket she had set near her captain's chair. She closed her eyes, counted to twenty, and opened them.

Surscee and Magnus were standing up, making slow, flowing movements that Nakteti knew were called katas, limbering up their muscles and focusing their minds. Both had a faint glowing nimbus around their hands, Surscee leaving a whispy trail behind her movements.

Nakteti looked around. Almost all of the consoles showed dead screens. The primary viewscreen was showing NO SIGNAL in big block letters in the middle of the field of sky blue.

"That was... unpleasant," Nakteti said.

Surscee, her eyes closed, merely nodded.

"Had better jumps," Magnus grunted. He threw himself into a rapid series of roundhouse kicks and strikes, fighting with empty air, before planting his feet, bending his knees, and exhaling from his stomach.

Nakteti stood up, grabbing the arm of the Captain's chair for a moment to steady herself, before lurching over to the sensor technician station. She sat down and shook her head to clear the sharp stabbing pains and the muzziness.

"Sensors are still calibrating," Nakteti said. She looked up. "How long was I unconscious?" she asked.

"An hour, maybe an hour and a half," Surscee said, still not opening her eyes as she turned, still making the slow movements.

Nakteti knew it was some form of close combat technique called 'water rock fist' or something like that, that involved a lot of flowing, almost ballet-like movements.

"Are the outside sensors reporting anything?" Nakteti asked. She looked at the board and shook her head. "Nope. Not even the optical lenses," she said, answering her own question.

"Where we have gone, we don't need eyes to see," Magnus said, smiling, as he sat down in the communication's officer's chair.

"Don't say stuff like that, it makes my fur stand up," Nakteti said. She shook her head again, then got up, wobbled for a second , then staggered over to the Captain's chair. She sat down and grabbed her Captain's Stick before slaving the sensor console to one of her screens.

Time ticked by and Nakteti took a quick nap, feeling much better when she woke up. Magnus peeled a few citrus fruits, sharing them with Nakteti and Surscee.

The bite made the nasty copper taste in Nakteti's mouth go away.

Finally, the sensor console beeped and tossed the data over to Nakteti.

Nakteti opened the screen and groaned. Surscee laughed and Magnus chuckled.

"It's an older meme, sir, but it checks out," Magnus said.

The image was four-fold. Top, middle two, and bottom. On the top was a scruffy and dirty looking human saying "What do your elvish eyes see?" The middle was a well groomed human-looking male with blond hair who was staring at Nakteti. The next was a bunch of things that made no sense to Nakteti. The bottom was the blond just staring in shock saying "I have no idea..."

It made her chuckle.

The screen cleared and showed an image.

Nothing but red as far as the eye could see. It was like the limit of vision was a bright crimson. Her brain said everything in between was crimson. Crimson light was coming from nowhere and everywhere.

There was nothing but red.

"We made it," Nakteti said. She reached over and rubbed the upraised scar on the back of her left gripping hand.

"Redspace."