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First Contact stories

Accelerator

Well-known member
Author
So on in this little blue dot... then the world in orbit exploded. A burst of electromagnetic radiation burst from the edge of the solar system.

Then it came closer, closer, all the while broadcasting, screaming in all frequencies. A massive call. Approaching Earth.

Then it stops. Maybe it crash-lands onto the moon. Or it enters Earth's orbit. For a month, it screams, broadcasting. Then it stops.

Then it just hangs there. Silently.

The ship itself is massive. The size of Britain, and approximately the same mass. An entire island by itself. Shaped like a knife, with warning lights and notificaition signals on it. Its also badly damaged. Even using telescopes from Earth, there is damage visible on it. Scorch marks, broken off pieces, hull breaches, broken windows, scarring... the works.

And the world sees it. It cannot be hidden. It cannot be ignored.

What happens next?
 
The astronauts entered the ship, bouncing across the lunar surface. Two sets of astronauts. Two power blocs, on the pale blue dot below. Two different ideologies. Two different faces of humanity. United, for once, in their mutual desire for exploration and the new faction this ship represented.

They approached a hull breach. Up close, the ship looked even more foreboding and ominous than normal. The power was dead, with no signs of activity. Rudimentary cameras and some such, searched through the wreckage. No heat, no thermals, and no movement. The place was dead. The two groups nodded to each other, communicating on radio frequencies. The situation on the ground was tense enough, with fingers being put on the trigger, and nerves being strung. There was a chance of nuclear Armageddon. Nobody wanted it, but nobody wanted the other to get the advantage either. Thus, a decision was made. This would be a joint operation.

The leaders of the respective expedition stepped up. And, as one, they stepped over the threshold, stepping into the ship. One small step for them, one giant leap for mankind. Upon landing, the shockwaves from their boots spread out from the impact, kicking up a cloud of lunar dust. They looked back to their expeditions, and beckoned. The teams would explore the wreckage, and hopefully find something useful. Or prevent the others from finding anything.

Taking small little jumps, the denizens of Terra began to slowly explore the dark hallways of the fallen ship.

—————————-

It had no name.

There was no true need for it. It was the ship. It was part of the ship. It was not of the ship. It had no body. Its body was the ship. It was there, making all the systems run normally, to Ensure life support was not cut off, to make sure that the ship did not plow itself into a star or get trapped within a black hole. Amongst its many missions, it was to protect the integrity of the ship, fight off intruders, and to protect its inhabitants.

But now, those missions were in danger. Non-friendlies had entered its confines. It was still damaged, from the dimensional jumps and the damage from its pursuers, large amounts of damage had been inflicted amongst its subsystems and power. In fact, the scientist that had examined it from Earth had been right. The power systems were down. The only thing that let it run its consciousness.... was a slow trickle of mana that it absorbed from the surroundings, and the power it gained from the heat the ship absorbed when the lunar surface was exposed to the sun. But that was barely enough to awaken it. Beforehand, it had more power to spare. But with all the power devoted to repairing itself, it could not spare any to wipe out the intruders. And as it watched, the intruders entered the darkened areas of the ship. The places where power had died, and the cameras and security turrets with it. Once there, they would be out of its reach.

Besides, one of its directives was to serve and obey the human race. And with all of its crew unconscious, it, itself, was in a bind. Numerous directives and orders conflicted within it. Slowing it down. Confusing it. Scattering its efforts. And with barely enough power to activate systems and

Then it hit upon a solution. Its crew was unconscious. And it needed assets to wipe out the intruders.

So it shall revive them. If a human were to realise what it did, he or she would applaud it for the artificial intelligences' imitation of the human behaviour of 'passing the buck'. The computer reasoned, that if a crew were to be revived, it would be able to give working directives or at least orders. And with a crew surviving and moving under their own power, they could deal with the intruders where the computer could not do so itself. A flawless solution.

But where, though? Whom? Most of the crew were severely injured before being put into stasis and hibernation. They would be in no position to speak, or even get out and fight. Except for one. Just one. Barely injured, with a small cut on her arm. Training in police work, hostage negotiation, and non-lethal takedowns. High scores in all tests. A recent graduate from the Peacekeeper Academy.

It set to work, carrying out life support and pumping in mana, and casting out telekinetic tendrils to awaken the sleeper. No time to lose, now.

———————————

They did not dream.

That was a minor quirk of their biology. A small price to pay, really.

They were a race meant to explore the universe, back when mankind was weak and frail. Artificial intelligence was limited, and human explorers often suffered catastrophic mental breakdowns, died, withered away, or fell victim to their own neuroses. The universe was a dark and dangerous place. And so they were made, to explore it, catalogue it, and tame it. Hyper-efficient biological systems. Perfect memory, along with the ability to carry out multiple trains of thought. Enhanced musculature and repair systems. Reduced need for sleep. Adaptations to survive in the vacuum of space. Reduced fatigue. Multiple brain enhancements and alterations to mental state.

And last but not least, the ability to go into hibernation.

When the ancients made them, did they glimpse, what would later turn against them and replace them? Or were they too arrogant, too sure in their power, as they sent out this new race into the great beyond?

Alisa was a member of the Peace Keeper Academy before The Fall. Recently graduated, in fact. If a Terran was to see her, he would peg her age as roughly 15. As the universe began to break up into civil war, she and other members of law enforcement, directed bands of refugees and civilians onto the generation ships. The ships, built by government funds and private shipyards, were to be a new hope. A way for them to make a new home, far away from the fighting. It was just unfortunate, that they had met some rather malicious and belligerent militia, who had insisted on opening fire.

In the chaos of the jump, the rest of the Peace Keepers were injured, and kept in stasis. With time and luck, they would reenterr service as savants of Law and Order. Of those who kept chaos and anarchy at Bay. But not today. Today, what was needed was speed. The girl was within a bulkhead, a trail of blood where her arm had been cut by a stray piece of metal, as she was flung from the impact of the crash-landing, the hull-metal breached by the stresses of the landing. Now she lay still, in the gloom, covered in lunar dust, her Peacekeeper uniform covering her prone form. Her body was the same temperature as the dirt around her. Her body did not move, her heart did not beat, and her breathe did not stir the soil. From all normal perspectives, she was a dead corpse.

Within her skull, protected from the deadly effects of solar radiation by passive defences that used ambient mana to create a shield, preserved by glycerol and anti-freeze proteins, a neuron sparked, synapses releasing chemicals and passing a voltage. And then another. And then another. And another. Until consciousness began to stir. If a map was to be made of the brain activity, it would look like the dancing sparks of fireworks, or perhaps the glow of bioluminescence. The body itself, began to restart. The Linker Core beat once, then twice, then thrice, pumping mana and powering spells. The cold rime of frost across her body vanished in a puff of steam. Stimulants were expelled by glands into her body, overclocking it. Beneath her eyelids, her eyes began to flicker and rotate. A nervous pulse spread to her hand. It began to clench, digging a trench into the lunar regolith that had settled around it.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Alisa began to awaken. Then came the telepathic missives, from the ship's computer.

Alisa of the Peace Keepers. Rise.

Intruder Alert.

Unidentified hostiles detected.

Civilians under danger.


Then came several telepathic messages, showing her a map and where the intruders were. Barely conscious, Alisa of the Peacekeeper force stumbled to her feet, unholstered her wand, and walked through the darkened corridors of the ship, aiming on apprehending whomever had just entered the ship.

No one expects the Peace Keepers.
 
The galaxy was set aflame.

Planets died. Stars went out. Planets cracked like eggs. Empires who existed for millenia, broke under the strain as beast and savage harried at its borders. The Saint-King line was dead, struck from behind by their trusted advisors. Now, their empire was populated by maggots of men, each without the power and the strength to hold it together. And the multiverse itself began to tremble beneath the barrage of weapons, as long-buried weapons from the ancient past were unleashed. Swarms of self-replicating nanites, vacuum bombs, sun-crushers, black-hole bomb, time-devourers, and other assorted horrors unleashed themselves. Old races of abominations and horrors began to strike at mankind, sensing weakness.

The people of the Empire felt that it was the end of the world. In many ways, it was.

And amidst the chaos, one single ship fled the battle, holding a precious cargo of human life and equipment to rebuild their civilization.

-----------------------------

20 00, 25 April, 1956

Dwingeloo Radio Observatory

Sam De Vries sighed.

The Dwingeloo Radio Observatory was silent, now. So late within the night, nearly everybody had long gone home. Even the janitor. The only people left, were a few unlucky interns. And himself. He sighed, looking down at the instrument readings on his desk. This is going to be an all-nighter. He sighed, sipping more black coffee. He grimaced. Damn that black gunk. After the spending for everything, there was not enough budget for good coffee.

That had to change. Bad beverages aside, he-

A ringing alarm from the instruments booth interrupted his musings. Carefully making sure his coffee did not spill, he placed his coffee right next to the papers, and rushed over. Jesse was there, the blonde haired boy fresh out of college carefully looking at the readings. "What is it?" Asked Sam, as he looked over at the instrument panel.

"Some kind of... release of radiation, sir?" Jesse, as he anxiously turned dials and knobs. "From where? Which star?" asked Sam, excitement filling his body. He remembered looking up into the sky in wonder, staying up late at night looking at stars through a telescope his father bought for his birthday, scanning anxiously for the big dipper. The sheer possibilities... perhaps some strange phenomenon, that will shed new light on science?

Jesse shook his head. "No sir, it isn't. Its from within the solar system

-----------------------------
The ship exploded from the space between dimensions, sparks emerging from its hull, electromagnetic radiation from every section of the spectrum spreading out from the tear in realspace. The hulk drifted, leaking air and power. Right before the jump, it had been beset by belligerent marauders. The ship had been, momentarily, defenseless, and so had been hit.

Now, sensors scanned the solar system, until each and every single planet was catalogued and analyzed. Success, the computer would have observed, if it had the self-awareness for such a thought. A life-bearing world, with oxygen and water.

Firing thrusters, it set a course, all the while malfunctioning emergency beacons screaming out a signal into the void.

--------------------------------
"Hello? Hello?" The radio transmitter was filled with static. Mike looked down at the transceiver. He was trying to talk to the officer in charge, but no one was answering. Only a scream of radio static.

All around the world, young women and their families stopped their activities and looked at the radios, wondering what had happened to their programs. Televisions ceased to work, showing white static on their screens as the antennae they used to take in the airwaves, were stamped by the scream of the ship flying above them. Soldiers, men trained in war, tensed and looked about in momentary confusion and unease, as they lost contact with their superiors. Planes flew about, and ships sat in momentary loss. Around the world, people took notice as they suddenly lost all access to wireless communications.

Then, after 20 hours of silence and confusion, the scream ended, and with it, more questions were raised. The source of the interference was detected, triangulated, and calculated, within 100 meters of accuracy. It was from outside Earth's orbit. Within the solar system. Great excitement was felt, as anxious eyes searched within the night sky for the visitor.

It was not hard. After all, it was easy to realise that there was now a dark spot on the moon.
 
Plot: The first man on the moon... was a russian. Granted, it was a one-way trip....

  1. Russian lands on the moon, thanking the motherland, communism, yadda.
  2. Starts commenting on the beauty of the lunar surface, and also how lonely and dark it is
  3. He looks up, and says. "I never knew that it looked like that." He was referring to earth
  4. Some musing on how, from here, the great cold war and the battle between the two blocs on earth seem so... small.
  5. He begins to prepare the landing site for the next few guys. Or sets up instruments. Takes pictures. Plants the flag.
  6. Stumbles upon the body. Its a little girl
  7. Announces it to the world. The news is... immense. Humans? On the moon?
  8. Looks down at the small girl in pity. Roughly 13 years old. Young. He thinks back on a particularly bad Russian winter. Where everything went cold.
  9. No one deserves to die alone like this, in the lunar wilderness. He asks for time and permission from control. They give it.
  10. A small grave. Or just a tarp, with some covering. A small stone, for a headstone.
  11. With that, he enters the ship, and begins to explore. Several hours of oxygen left.
  12. He steps inside... and nearly falls over. Something's wrong. He realizes it almost immediately. Its the gravity. The gravity is no longer 1/6th of earth normal.
  13. Re-checking his bearings, he looks at the instruments used to detect atmosphere. And sees that the readings are posiitve. There's air here.
  14. He experiments. He picks up a piece of cloth, and drops it. Air resistance.
  15. He, ignoring the screams of command.... undoes his helmet. And breathes, freely, on the moon.
  16. He talks on the radio. Obviously, something very odd is right here.
  17. He hear sounds. He tries to talk to command. Tries, and tries again.
  18. The last thing site command hears is "..... explore.... music..."
 
25 Jan, 2030, Pacific time:

The new space race was on. The Soviet Union, having collapsed decades ago with the pulling down of the iron curtain, had long since lost the space race with the Americans putting of a man on the moon. Now, a new rival for America had appeared. The Middle Kingdom. The East. China, with half the world's population, immense resources, a centralised bureaucracy and government, and a will to see their civilisation flourish once more, had become the new rival to the Stars and Stripes. The competition came in many ways. Military. Displays of economic opulence. The Olympics. And now, competition in technology.

The Chinese will not be the first on the moon. But they would be the first to live on it.

Right now, the rocket ship Zheng He, approached the moon's orbit, floating over the Lunar surface, warning lights blinking in the darkness of space. The technology within was tested, checked, designed, and put together, with the greatest of efforts by the Chinese government. The astronauts, were selected not only for their excellence and skill, but also for their loyalty and unwavering devotion to their country. This would not be their last trip. They would be the pioneers. The layers of the foundation. The first builders. They would be immortalised, as the first men to begin the setting up of the Chinese Colonies.

Lu Xun, stared down at the instrument panel beneath him. Alone out of the 5 other men on the rocket, Lu Xun had been born a poor factory worker's son, in Beijing. Studying hard and helping to earn extra money in his spare time for family, he had entered the Air Force, managing to work himself up to a prestigious position, managing to forge many connections and mutually beneficial relationships amongst the army and the civilian government. These, along with the determination and intelligence his superiors had seen in him, had seen him nominated to go onto a Mission into space.

Months of training. Hours upon hours of non-stop conditioning and hard work. All for this very moment. From a son of a factory worker who barely came home, to a man whose face would be known by millions and immortalised in the history books. Not bad at all.

He pressed the button. And then the alarms started to blare.

The button was meant to activate the program that would let them land. The rocket would fire off several thrusters, which would alter their trajectory and make them orbit at the same speed as the moon's rotation, letting them stay above the same patch of ground. Then they would shift position, using more rockets and thrusters, using gymbals and stabilizers to orient themselves so that their main thruster pointed downwards. And then, they would move slowly down, until they were a hundred meters above the surface. Then, the main rocket would fire, surrendering their descent, and letting them land smoothly. That did not happen.

Despite their efforts, the government had still overlooked some things. Made some mistakes. A damaged soldier there. An impurity in the rubber and the circuitry here. Damaged insulation. Incorrectly made connections. This all made for a single, catastrophic spark, as current flowed and rubber melted. And then, a cascade of errors and explosions occured. The Zheng He screamed in alarm, its electronic mind realising that it was damaged. And then, explosion. One of its side-rockets were blown out, the fuel igniting within the housing. The shockwave travelled across the hull, creating several cracks and breaches. Air, already so precious in the darkness of space, began to leak. A computer glitch occurred during the catastrophe, and at once, the main thruster of ignited.

Lu Xun screamed, along with his astronauts, as he was flung down onto the floor as the rocket accelerated beyond safety parameters, inertia pinning him down like a vice. The world, China especially, looked about in shock and horror, as the Zheng He rocketed out of Lunar orbit. Out of Earth orbit, going towards nowhere.

The Zheng He sped away, far from home, full speed ahead towards nowhere.
 
Lu Xun crashed his hand against the wall in frustration, the velcro straps on his shoes preventing him from being sent flying by the impact. He gritted his teeth, jaw muscles almost cramping under the stress he was putting them. His eyes blurred. But he did not cry. He could not cry. To break down, to weaken under despair, was anathema. He did not cry when he lost his home. He did not cry at his parents' funeral. He did not cry when she died. And he will not cry now.

He can not cry, for others were counting on him. If one of the senior astronauts and leaders were to break down, how would the others react? Morale would break down, and they would either die of despair, kill each other in a psychotic break, commit suicide, or die in other undignified ways. Such a starting point for the Eastern Colonies on the moon... this would destroy their prestige and weaken the soul of the nation, back on earth. They would not dare come up again.

He could not let that happen. They were doomed. But at the very least, they could die with dignity and make sure that their stories would inspire their future generations.

With that in mind, he stalked back to the crew chambers, determination and strength emphasised in every step, eyes set in front of him. He would salvage whatever he could of this mission, and not die a dog's death.

~ 5 days later

The Zheng He was never meant for long deep-space travel. Even so, the CCP, in a fit of paranoia (foresight, perhaps?), had ordered more to be put in. Extra fuel tanks. Rations. Water. Added in with their food supplies, was also equipment for their colony. Hydroponics. Water recycling plants. They had food for 10 days. Oxygen, for 8. With the plants, they could stretch it out, using artificial light to force photosynthesis. Probably be able to survive for months Energy, for years. There was a bulk of isotope in the core, the thermal radiation being produced from radioactive decay meaning that they would not run out of energy for years.

The problem, was the air.

It was noticed 24 hours ago. The pressure dials had been showing that they were constantly losing air, the air pressure in the cabins slowly but steadily dropping until they were refilled from the backups. Hoping blindly against misfortune, he had simply waited. Trying to conserve the reserve air. As if bare hopes and will was able to make up for broken hulls and a depleting air supply. That was until Control had come back to him. The readings had come back, and sensors and telescopes had detected a plume of air leaking from the ship. That was when he had given up, and had gotten the crew together to fix the hull breach.

It was not good.
 
It was bad. Truly bad. He had gathered the crew around the radio screen, watching with wide eyes and bated breathes, bodies tense with worry. And the news was damning.

"I'm afraid that there is no way for us to rescue you, Captain Lu Xun" The voice of the bureaucrat speaking to them was talking in a monotone, as if he was talking about the weather, and not the ghastly future aboard the ship. "There is no more rockets that are scheduled for launch within this month. Besides, even if there were, there is no way that we can catch up to you. There is not enough fuel to catch up to you and bring you back. I'm afraid that you are on your own, crew of the Zheng He."

Zhi Ruo broke down first. She was a medic, excited to be in space and check the crew for any illnesses and to make sure they can survive whatever maladies they had. Now, she was doomed to die, a thousand miles from home, to a slow death.

"Make sure you die a dignified death. Even if you cannot save yourselves, you can still contribute to your motherland. Do not shame your families and your nation, and keep us appraised of your situation."

With that cold good bye, the video switched off.

~1 days later.

"And that's about it. Now, we're currently moving past several bands of radiation, as well as taking a spectroscopic measurement of an asteroid we passed by. Currently sending the data. We are going strong, though some of the crew are nervous. Long live the motherland."

Lu Xun looked at the radio, holding back the temptation to smash it to bits. To scream. To cry in sorrow.

He looked to his left. There, drifted Zhang Wei. Or at least, his corpse. It took less than 6 hours before he cracked, taking a cyanide pill from the drawer. He left nothing. Not even a note or a goodbye. He lay there, in his space suit. No one bothered to clean up. What was the point? They would all soon be dead. By now, there was already a smell, both from the vacated bowels and from the beginnings of putrefaction. He would probably have to throw it out of the airlock, soon.
 
Zhi Ruo and some other guy was in the cargo Bay, doing whatever. The rocket was small, and the metal helped transmit the sounds of flesh smacking into flesh across the entire place. Technically, this was fraternization and breakdown of social order. Pragmatically, Lu Xun did not care. They were all going to die. Might as well let them have it. It's not like she would have the chance to bring the child to term, anyway.


Wang Wei had raided the medicine cabinet, and had secreted himself away the lab. The cabinet hung open forlornly, the contents drifting throughout the zero-gravity space, floating freely. The morphine was missing, along with several other things and one of the needles. Wang Wei was probably going to die from something, but then what does it matter? No one was going to boot him out of the Air Force, not in time for him to have to live through it, anyway.

Lu Xun sighed, standing up. The Velcro on the bottom of his shoes, helping to anchor him to the floor of the shuttle in absence of gravity. He walked to his own private room. This was a rarity, a privilege given to the captain, letting him have privacy and his own territory in a place where every single centimetre was precious, where every single gram cost tens of thousands.

He opened a secret drawer, and pulled out his greatest treasure on the Zheng He. A bottle of rice wine. From his home town. Opening the bottle, he began to gulp down the drink, not caring that he might choke to death on the drink. For him, the captain, it didn't matter anymore. No need to worry about setting an example or having to break up any issues. No need to make sure that he was not reprimanded for behaviour unbecoming an officer. No worries on being in top form for anything. Here, in this study, no one was judging him. And so Lu Xun drank himself stupid, drowning his sorrows.

~10 hours later


He clutched his head, face grimacing in pain. What.. happened? Why was the light pounding on his head? What was that roaring noise? He looked around himself. The light was his study room, with the light emitting diodes shining brightly. The roaring sound... was the alarm signal for a message. He looked about, scrambling for his phone. The phone was connected to the shuttle systems. Activating it and pressing the tab, his hand flickered, turning to the notification screen. His eyes widened in shock, and his alcohol-fogged brain purged itself of the remaining confusion from his drinking binge. 12 messages! By the Heavens and the Ancestors. He was going to be in massive trouble for this. Obviously, he had to clean himself up, or at least pretend the video was down.

He turned the video messages on. And what he heard, chilled himself to the bone.

The first four were the same, informing him of news events on earth. Coverage by the news media. News from his Father, and several of his coworkers. Recordings and reports by the western world. Farewells, and wishes for good luck. A promise, to take care of his remaining family, and those of the crew.

And the next seven, were different. The first, started talking about how there was something right next to them. A small flicker of light, of distortion, approaching the ship. Then, it talked about how the distortion travelled parallel to the ship, half a light second away. Then the distortion revealed itself, showing... a ship. Then the ship began to approach the shuttle, slowly, ever so slowly, moving on an intercept course. Then it showed the ship, travelling right next to the shuttle. Several more messages, showing scans on the ship, pictures of it nearly atop the hull, and a video showing its course, as well as several commentary by experts.

The last one, was the strangest of them all:

Sender: Unknown

Origin: Right outside

Subject: Greetings

Text body: Good morning, Captain Lu Xun. May I come in?
 
He turned around, looking around himself feverishly. Nothing. The sterile white corridors of the spaceship, gleamed in the fluorescent lights. Sweat trickled down his brow. Nothing happened. No nausea. No inconsistencies. No hallucinations.

He looked back at the screen. The message remained there, staring back at him. As if mocking him. "Sender: unknown. Origin: Right outside". He looked upwards, towards the part of the hull facing vacuum. Could it be??? That there was someone out there, hovering just out of range, in their own ship? Near-impossible. No one from earth could do that. He looked at the message again, his own breathing resounding in his ears. "Visual contact on unidentified object." Said the message from Control.


He turned on the radio. It automatically aimed its antennas earth, and the radio could easily decipher any messages heading their way, regardless of most interference. The messaging system had several modes. When he had gotten drunk, it had gone into 'standby', meaning that whenever it received a message, it would not broadcast it out onto the ship, but instead save the data onto the local computer, and alert the captain. As he was drunk, all those messages had been read late.

Hands shaking only ever so slightly, he took a reply. "I have received the messages. Apologies for the late reply. Was kept sidetracked by urgent business. Requesting permission to contact UFO." And he clicked send.
 
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