The Walkers, updated 9-28-03

[chewy027]

2400.8 ~ Peace…

For we Vandron, peace is a way of life. We have always tried to look past our differences and made every effort to avoid situations that may lead to violence. This was our way even before the Almighty manifested himself among us. And since the destruction of our enemies on Serenity, we have had nothing but peace for over 2000 years; wisdom, honor, and foresight have prevailed where anger and rash action have failed. At least that was what Captain Mandron was telling himself as his ship, an escort class Revelation scout ship, appeared back in the Churba System where his mission was to make contact with the alien vessel they had seen before.
“I do not like the fact that we have no communications with Serenity.” Mandron thought to himself. “Still it seems prudent, even necessary, that we meet this race and determine if they are friend or foe.”
“Captain!” his first mate Sharnon was saying, “There they are, and they are not moving toward the wormhole, sir.”
“Excellent Sharnon, open all frequencies but make no transmissions.” ordered the Captain. “We will see if they want to communicate with us before we play our hand.”
“A wise decision sir, opening all frequencies,” came the reply.
“Lieutenant Sharnon, I don’t need your opinion on the wisdom of my dec…” but he was cut off by a low muddling sound coming from the speakers.
“What is that?” demanded Mandron.
“It seems to be a transmission coming from the vessel, sir.” answered the communications officer.
“Can we determine what they are saying?” asked Sharnon.
“No ma’am” came the reply. “But the computer is working on making a translation. Their language, or whatever it is they are transmitting, seems to be very different then ours.”
The transmission continued for some time until they could make out what it meant. While the transmission was being decoded, Mandron silently contemplated what the wisest course of action would be. His thoughts were interrupted when the communications officer suddenly spoke up.
“The message says, ‘We are the Aquilaeian Empire. We mean you no harm, though we are curious as to what your intentions are in this system,’ and then it starts over and repeats itself.” said the communications officer with an edge of triumph to his voice.
“Can you make a reply in their tongue?” asked Mandron.
“No, sir.” answered the officer.
“Then transmit to them in our own, ‘We are the Vandron, and we mean only peace.”
Almost as soon as it was sent a reply came back in their own tongue “Greetings Vandron, we are glad to see a fellow race with peaceful intentions. My name is Arguile; I am the captain of this ship.”
“Put me on direct communications, ordered Mandron.” He waited a second and went on, “I am Mandron the captain of this ship, by the authority of the High Command. We have declared our intentions of peace, what are your intentions?”
“We wish for nothing but peace,” the reply came quickly, “and it is for this reason that we have been waiting for you.” Arguile went on, “You see, Mandron, we wish to extend to you an offer of a trade alliance.”
“An alliance?” the surprise was evident in Mandron’s voice.
“Well, more of a trading pact” Arguile went on. “An agreement stating that we will give a certain percentage of our goods to you every tenth, for the same percentage of your goods in return.”
“Why would we want to agree to this ‘trading pact’?” asked Mandron.
“Well, Mandron, we Aquilaeians are much larger then yourselves, and have many friends and enemies. It seems that you are in a disadvantaged position in that we are the first species you have met beside your own, and the one you call the ‘Almighty’.” Arguile said this with a discernable air of superiority that made Mandron’s head swim. How did they know so much about us? What should I do? Make the wisest decision he ordered himself, but as he was telling himself this, his thoughts were again interrupted.
“You are no doubt wondering how we know so much about your people? The answer is simple really, we have been monitoring you for some time now, and we know that the wise decision for you to make will be to agree to the pact.” The words dripped off of Arguile’s tongue. “Besides,” he went on, “why would you not want peace?”
Mandron thought for a moment, “You are right,” answered Mandron, choosing to avoid the tone with witch these Last remarks had been said. They would no doubt greatly benefit from this inflow of new resources, as the amount they were going to receive would more then likely be far less than they would give out. “We agree to this trading pact. But how will we give you our materials if we don’t even know where to send them?”
“Do not worry about that, our ships are already standing by. When our shipment is delivered we will simply pick up our percentage from you.” And with that the transmission abruptly ended, and the Aquilaeian vessel, a ship comparable in size to the Vandron’s own, plunged through the far eastern wormhole and vanished.
“Take us back through the western wormhole.” Mandron ordered, “Prepare a transmission for the High Command. Tell them we have good news.”