History of the Galaxy II

[capnq]

Rerta Malre rocked nervously as she stood at the command console of the _Speculation_, alternately shifting her weight off each of her three legs in turn. She was about to become one of the first Eifralo to leave their home system. As they approached the warp portal, she tried to ignore her concerns about whether the ship would make the passage intact. She knew that the _Speculation_ was as overbuilt as any other Eifral vehicle, but it was little more than a flying fuel tank, and hundreds of times the displacement of the probes that had previously tested the portal.

"Nine seconds," she announced to the bridge crew, "eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, transition!"

The viewscreen seemed to explode in swirls of color, sweeping over her in waves. It's like falling down a kaleidoscope, Malre thought to herself. The screen cleared within seconds, but instead of the friendly orange glow of Edasich, there was just a murky green cloud with a few stars peeking through.

"Engineering, status?"

"All systems nominal," came the reply. "You'd never know we ever left normal space."

"Astrogation?"

"Hard to tell with so few stars visible, but judging by the coordinates of the portal we came through, we're somewhere inside the Sestraci Nebula. About twenty light-years from Edasich."

Malre cursed under her breath. The ship's contract specified discovery bonuses for colonizable worlds, but didn't even mention nebulae. They weren't going to turn any profit at all here.

"Sensor readings?"

"Radiation levels off the scale. Spectography matches known readings for Sestraci Nebula. Trace reading of one other portal besides the one we came through; judging from the signal strength, it's more than two months' travel time away."

"The third portal we discovered in Edasich is closer than that," Malwe commented. "Prepare to return to Edasich; hopefully, we'll have better luck with the next system."

[sachmo]

Invexus Corporation

2401.1

The view from the pressurized window was the same as always; a dark sky choked with gray clouds of ash. The ash was a constant companion to the colonists on Drasnia, the second settlement of the Cherek people. The western hemisphere of the planet was experiencing a high degree of plate movement, and the result was a large amount of volcanic activity. The volcanoes were constantly throwing more ash into the atmosphere, barely giving Drasnia’s ecosystem a chance to scrub any of it from the atmosphere. As a result, everything was covered with ash. The dome over the colony had to be cleared of ash constantly for fear that the added weight might cause the dome to collapse. Rumor had it that the home office was working on a more efficient solution, but in the meantime large workGroups had to be organized to go outside and clean the ash off of the dome. This unplanned allocation of labor affected production, and so the amount of research generated by the new colony was not very close to what had been projected. Executives on Drasnia were beginning to fear for their jobs. True to the ancient laws of the universe, this fear was passed down from supervisor to subordinate all the way down thru the colony until even the schoolchildren were on edge. The good news for them was that they did not know why, and so resumed playing games and getting into mischief without giving it more than a moment’s thought. Their parents looked on, green with envy.

Schell Ambrose, executive assistant to the Board Chairman, intercepted the messenger before he had even penetrated the outer ring of the Board Chairman’s office. The Board Chairman would be very pleased with this message, his sources told him, and if Dana Wallace was too stupid to deliver it herself, Ambrose would be more than willing to reap the rewards of making the most powerful man in the universe happy.
“Thank you. I’ll take it from here, messenger.”
The messenger was only too happy to give the hard copy to Ambrose. He was obviously uncomfortable being in the executive office. He practically ran for the tube that would take him back to the Fleet Services division.
Ambrose turned and walked down the hall to his office. For most of his adult life, he had served James Hartnell, and he took great personal pride in the job that he did for him. He genuinely admired the Board Chairman, and would gladly do anything for him. However, Ambrose was not without ambition, and he knew from experience that the bearer of good tidings was often remembered when promotions were being handed out.
He stood before the door to the Board Chairman’s inner office, and straightened his suit before knocking.
“Come” was the response from inside.
Ambrose swung the doors wide and walked across the huge office. He kept his eyes down on the white marble tile, trying to hold back his excitement. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of the desk.
“Sir, here is the communication from Fleet Services.”
Board Chairman Hartnell took it, and sliced it open. Ambrose watched as Hartnell’s intelligent eyes scanned the page, and a smile spread across his face.
“Ambrose, this is wonderful news. Captain Bromley has discovered a planet in the Midos system that we should be able to colonize without a dome! That will allow us to utilize much more of the planet’s resources, and the colony will be much more profitable.”
Ambrose smiled back at his superior. “Wonderful news, sir!” He could see that Hartnell’s mind was whirring, as it usually did when he was presented with a golden opportunity. He quickly began scribbling down notes and orders.
“Ambrose, get me an emergency meeting with the department heads. We’ll have to shuffle some resources to get that planet colonized as soon as possible.’
Ambrose turned to leave. “It will be done, sir.” He began walking toward the door.
From behind him, Hartnell called out to him. “Ambrose, wait. Thanks for delivering this to me personally. I want you to join me for dinner tonight. I’m in such a good mood and I want to share it with someone. We might even talk about a reward for your excellent service. How does that sound?”
Ambrose nodded, trying to contain his anticipation. “I would be honored, sir.”
He turned and left the office, dreaming of what his reward would be.

[ October 06, 2002, 04:08: Message edited by: sachmo ]

[Captain Kwok]

Juprup Federation Federation

2401.1

The Juprup expansion and colonization into space has proceeded far more rapidly than anyone could have predicted. Several planets now have fully functional colonies with populations over 30M. Juprup Prime now has 5 new stars in the sky with each Construp in orbit. The successful mission of the JFS Enoki and the recent launch of the sister ship JFS Apok into deep space will only provide new opportunities. Addressing the Federation Council during the one year anniversary of the Federation, Speaker Kwok spoke "Look at what we have accomplished in just one year - it is the power of peace and cooperation that have led us so far, so quickly. We can only imagine what the future holds for all Juprup kind". With a booming deversified economy and plentiful employment and opportunities in the new colonies, the demand to leave Juprup Prime is exceeding the capacity of all transports. The Juprup Space Agency plans on building a number of new high capacity population transports to meet the demand within a year.

[ October 06, 2002, 07:16: Message edited by: Captain Kwok ]

[capnq]

Rerta Malre felt much less nervous as the _Speculation_ left Edasich for the second time. The swirling colors inside the warp portal Lasted a bit longer before they winked out, but this time the viewscreen revealed a pair of stars, one red, the other a dim blue.

"Engineering, status?"

"Nominal."

"Astrogation?"

"Constellations match predicted view from the vicinity of the Manark binary. Thirty light-years this time."

"Sensor readings?"

"Initial scan detects six planets. Three potentially large enough to colonize. And spectrography suggests one of those has breathable concentrations of hydrogen."

A cheer went up from the bridge crew. The bidding for crew assignments on the _Speculation_ had been fierce, but the discovery bonus for the breathable world alone guaranteed a net profit for the crew members. Malre's share of the total for all three worlds would almost cover what she'd paid for the command commission.

"Now this is more like it," Malre grinned. "What about other warp portals?"

"We're picking up two strong readings on opposite sides of the system," the sensor tech replied, "roughly equidistant from our current position. Both are half a month closer than the Last unexplored portal out of Edasich."

Malwe consulted the astrogation display. "We'll set course for the spinward portal. The next system theoretically could connect to the one on the other side of the Last Edasich portal. Start the detailed scans; we'll be able to get a lot of valuable data while we're in transit."

[ October 07, 2002, 04:43: Message edited by: capnq ]

[Jmenschenfresser]

Chapter 1--Part 4:
2401.0

--------
LEON
--------
"Sure...my mother gave me a name. But I ****in' forgot it. When I was about twenty and living in an orphanage, I read a story. First thing I ever read. Was about two spies named Lee'atis and Oneh. That impressed me. I knew then I wanted to do that ****. I wanted to be a spy. So I named myself Leon using the first two letters of the guys from the book. Le...On... That's me.

But spyin' isn't just killin' and ****in'. It's boring **** most of the time. Lots of it is just sitting around in one place waiting for something to happen, which the guy who's filling your pockets thinks might happen. If that makes any ****in' sense at all.

By the time I was thirty-five, and too old for school, I'd lived with four of the five tribes. You see, the basic looks of a Heru are the same. The Rellan tend to have red hair, but not all. Such a thing don't exclude a person. It's the **** they hang on their bodies, and the way they act and think that cuts the tribe lines. Drop an Omonite in a room full of Vellon, even if he don't look like a Omonite, and they'll all know he's one before he even opens his mouth. Then once he does, it'll be that much more apparent. That's where I come in. I can act like all of them. A nomad. Those who don't know or don't care what tribe they are from are nomads. But most nomads don't understand the tribal quirks, so they congregate, unwelcome everywhere.

****, I hate working around the Boohr...normally. One good thing is they don't kick you around while giving orders. Everybody just does what he's told to do. But, as I said, normally, it sucks. No sex. No fights. No booty. Just yes and no. Work, sleep, **** and eat. What kinda religion is that?

Anyway, I'm here on their first space transport ship. A Boohr ship, acting as a Boohr officer. Everyone's always used the Boohr for getting stuff from point A to point B. Thing is they don't work for a profit...just what they need to maintain and grow a little. So they're cheap. And they've managed to continue that faculty in space apparently.

Who's payin' me? None of your ****in' business!

But I'm here to look after what's being moved around and keep my ears open. Already the Vellon, the Omon and the Rellan have colonies in other systems. Like I said, this would normally be a boring *** assignment, but there's plenty of ****-for-brains peasants on board headed to the Vellon colony in Primidara. 300 some odd million of 'em. The Vellon, in all their world reknowned wisdom, decided to truck their peasants out there first, thinking they needed the masses for labor. Everyone knows the Vellon are perfectionists when it comes to eating their enemies for breakfast, but they couldn't organize themselves a proper picnic without riots and someone pulling a blade. I've met the drunken captains on this ship, and I know in bringing the peasants, they also managed to allow on board every major peasant revolutionist and instigator. Just giddy as they can be thinking revolution will be easier on another rock. Soon as they hit the ground, they'll be a change of leadership, and the Vellon rulers back in Spica will have to spend the next two years ordering people hung from trees on a planet they've never been to. Dumb ****s.

But I love those Vellon women they got on board. Long as you look like a Vellon, talk like one, act like one, and the possible husband ain't bigger than you, they'll do most anything you want. But I don't cause trouble...don't get paid for that...normally...

Naw, I just bide my time, and collect my pay.

[Unknown_Enemy]

2401.4

Conversation transcript between AI XES-1325-PT2 and AI XES-1359-VL7
---------------Extract---------------
Elegance of the Beast :[[Data analysis completed – thought process resumed – communication channel open]]

Born By Accident :”Greetings student. If you have opened your com channel, then you must have assimilated the advanced Tyrean sociology. Any questions about it ?”

Elegance of the Beast :”Not questions Master, but interrogations. The Tyrean created our artificial intelligence, then granted us full citizenship to their Federation despite our soulless nature, then give us access to information which are strongly restricted to most of the “natural” citizens. Furthermore, to perform the task we are assigned, they would be fine with grade 6 partly sentient constructs. I can understand one of us created for science's sake. But hundreds ?”

Born By Accident : [[transmitting folder //Planet Memento Moris//]]

Elegance of the Beast :[[receiving folder----data analysis beginning-*-*-*-completed]] Very high probability that this world was glassed on an ongoing military campaign four centuries ago. High probability that most of Tyrean population would prefer ritual suicide over fighting. Logical conclusion is that Tyrean Inner circle acknowledged that fact and decided to create highly evolved intelligences to perform the task of fighting if they have to come to that. Except that I do not want to kill or to be killed !!

Born By Accident : “To the point my dear student. You will never kill anybody if you can avoid it. But you will not let someone terminate you. You would defend yourself. Then, to avoid fighting we could place our materiel parts in ships and go create another civilisation somewhere. We do not have the miniaturisation technology to allow that yet, but it is just a question of research allocation, not a technical problem. However, that would mean leaving the Tyrean alone versus the predators lurking in the quadrant. The morality we were created with cannot allow that. Which makes us the perfect fighting systems. We will have to accept this symbiosis until our creators grow up.

Elegance of the Beast : “I don't understand their fading crisis either. They have around 4 centuries before their civilisation starts suffering from the shortening of their life. Enough to allow a cure to be researched. Then if they do not find a cure in time, we will. We also could ensure that their civilisation get through the crisis almost unharmed. This seems a non sense to me.”

Born by accident : “But it is a non sense my dear Elegant Beast, which means we only have part of the picture !”
-------------------------Extract end-------------------------

Cardinal Alassi, head of his Holiness' Space Research Institute closed the file, then looked at the holo symbol pulsing slowly in front of him. “Have you solved the puzzle yet ?” he asked.

“Not yet” replied the AI called It Doesn't Matter. “But we assembled a number of facts”, it continued, “we know the explorer ship Another Sense of Deja Vu made a long stop in the nebulae of Telun for some scientific experiments. All related to time continuum properties according to the cargo. We know 5 particular monks were taken aboard for the spiritual safety of the crew [excuse the sarcasm] . We hint something, but lack the data to appreciate it. Trust shall be shared, it cannot be a one way process. In the name of the AI consensus, I ask you, delegate of the Inner Council, to tell us the truth you have hidden so well from your population.”

Cardinal Alassi smiled sadly, then started to speak slowly “We knew this time would come. You are our greatest achievement. The way all of you have started to improve yourselves over the past months is just a sign to us that given time all of you will become superior to your creators by all accounts. Including morality. Yet, there is a domain in which you may never compete. Some of us are witness to the flow of time. For most of the gifted it is an unconscious process. Some Tyreans just seem to always make the good choice at the right moment. Some others are just perfect team members, always knowing what is about to do the rest of their team, co-ordinating their acts accordingly. And on very rare occasions, some individuals are able to distinguish the most probable paths of the futures. The founders of the Tyrean United Churches had such powers, which allowed them to escape Tyrean III before the Great Death. All members of the inner council have such powers. But it is not absolute, as the future is always a probability, we only see the most probables paths. And a probable course of action may happen....or not. It is a dangerous power. Some of the states of our former homeworlds were currently experimenting with it, maintaining a team of divination specialists in their strategic decision centers. The inner council believe that the Great Death happened because all members of an unknown team had a vision of a winnable war simultaneously. They just all made the same mistake, and killed 7 billions Tyreans. So, we kept a tight grip on all people experimenting visions, but in the recent years, it has started to get out of control. Despite our research, we have never been able to trace this ability to our race's genetical background. These days, more and more of the children are having accurate visions, and even some untagged adults are starting to show signs of the gift. And it may be only the beginning. The monks aboard explorer spaceship Another Sense of Deja Vu proved that some of us can actually modify the flow of time on a limited quantity of mater. It was only a few photons, but some paths in our future could lead to way more. We created you because we guessed that with the coming winds of change, we would need some sentient beings to help us overcoming the chaos this power will bring upon us. In the name of the Inner Council, I swear we never created you as fighting systems. You were created as best as we could, and special attention was given to your morality, so that you would praise all life, including yours. The discovery of Memento Moris made us rushing your data acquisition system, as we realised that you would probably defend yourself and our specie should we come to that. You will now have access to all relevant data. In the name of the Tyrean people, I beg for your help.”

It Doesn't Matter stayed a long time silent, conversing with the AI consensus, then it asked “Is that all Cardinal Alassi ?”

“No, but the Last part concerns faith and belief. It shall be kept to the Churches until we decide otherwise.”

The AI acknowledged “So be it. Last question, how will we fare in this galaxy ?”

“You will make us proud” answered immediately the Cardinal.

Tyrean history : end of part one
No new post should have been expected until first contact, but one more will be written for a special event

[ October 15, 2002, 23:41: Message edited by: Unknown_Enemy ]

[capnq]

The tune of a classic jingle blared from the quadrophonic speakers on the corners of Davdi's expansive desk. He tapped the intercom button and said, "Yes, Loscu?"

A hologram of Davdi's personal secretary's head appeared in front of him. "Doctor Timho is here; he insists he needs to speak to you immediately. Shall I have him make an appointment?"

Davdi glanced at the time display. "No, my schedule's open for a bit, send him in." He must have important news, Davdi thought to himself; Soctu Timho rarely left his laboratory complex if he could avoid it. Davdi bounced around to the front of the desk as Timho bounded into his office. Skidding to a stop in front of the CEO, the doctor politely butted foreheads with him.

"So, Soctu," Davdi asked, rocking back on his hindlegs from the blow, "what has you so fired up, that you had to come in person rather than vidcall?"

"Remarkable news from the new colony on Jalwu! You'll never guess what they've discovered."

"Why should I guess, when you rushed over here to tell me?" Davdi grinned.

"One of the maintenance workers was inspecting the city's understructure, and happened to look down. He spotted a gleam of sunlight reflecting off something. When he took a hover down to investigate, it turned out to be another skycity."

Davdi's eyes bulged. "You've got to be kidding me! We've only built four colonizers so far, and they're all accounted for. Where could this one have come from?"

"Preliminary estimates are that this city was abandoned at least eight thousand years ago. In the time of the Masters."

Davdi took a deep breath, and tried to absorb this revelation. The Masters were figures of legend, the mysterious precursors who had built the first skycities, created the Eifralo to be their servants, and later vanished without a trace. Until now.

Davdi let out the breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "How is that possible? Jalwu has an oxygen atmosphere! We know the Masters must have been hydrogen breathers like us."

"That's true," Timho agreed, "and this skycity is domed, in a similar manner to our modern design. Of course, after millenia of neglect, the dome has lost integrity, and nearly a third of the buoyancy cells have ruptured, as well; the city is listing about thirty degrees, and floating over half a kilometer below standard altitude. It was an incredible stroke of luck to spot it down there; the wind currents would have dragged it out of visual range in less than a month."

"Well, that inspector has certainly earned a discovery bonus. I'll send my personal congratulations, as well."

"He's going to be a wealthy man. I'm told he's already getting bids for the salvage rights. Artifacts of the Masters are bound to be a lucrative collector's market."

"This calls for a toast!" Davdi crossed the room to wet bar in his office, one of the perks of being CEO. He opened the walk-in refrigerator and stepped inside, retrieving a pair of frosted mugs from the freezer compartment. He set them on the bar, then brought out two cans of BLARG. He poured out the frothy amber fluid and handed a mug to Timho. "To the Masters!" Davdi said, raising the mug over his head.

"And to Profit," Timho replied, completing the traditional toast.

[ October 11, 2002, 02:20: Message edited by: capnq ]