It was a dull chore, them not having found anything. Space was big, and empty, and the Dev'ma was quite well out of the way of anything important. The Union had few enemies, and even fewer friends, so not much traffic came through.
Scouting out the stars yielded nothing. Undertaking this task was about as much fun as taking part in a grass-growing tournament. It was all the crews aboard the scout ships could do to keep from lobotomizing themselves...
They were both of sleek design, and obviously well equipped. No transmissions were broadcast, but any sensors pinging off detections would find that the larger vessel was actively probing deep into the surrounding space, but for what, few could say.
"Yes sir," he replied, guiding the scout ship towards the signal's origin.
Once they were in range, the captain gave the command to hail the two vessels and try to establish contact with them. Opening up a comm. channel with them, he began to speak. "This is Captain Berns of the Vitality. State your business here." It was a simple command. Hopefully these ships weren't here to cause trouble.
They'd be met with their own if so.
Aboard the bridge of the comparatively large ship, a sitting at the primary communications console was a being made mostly of metal- almost liquid looking, it receives the message being transmitted and translates it into Aramaeic.
"It is a hail from the approaching vessel. A Captain Berns of the Vitality requests our business."
Standing behind the various operators on the bridge, a short Aramaean woman in a gray uniform looks down at the machine. In a soft voice, she replies, "Tell them our business is not of concern, but ask them if they have seen the vessel belonging to the escaped mutts."
Nodding an affirmation, the machine turns its vaguely head-reminiscent appendage back to the communications console and opens the channel.
"On behalf of her eminence Captain Fir'deim M'hel of the Aramaean War Fleet Griffon, we respond with abstinence to your request," the machine replies in a voice that denies gender. "In the effort of good will, we request information. We seek a vessel transporting war criminals. By your allowance, we will transmit details for review."
The information came across his holographic display. He read over the files quickly, but he didn't see anything that stood out to him. The Dev'ma was wanting for activity such as this, and so war criminals wasn't something they ever ran into. "Negative, we have no additional intel on these targets." Well, the good news was, he knew what they were doing in this part of space. As long as they steered clear of Celestria or the other worlds, not a whole lot would be demanded of them.
"If that'll be all, I can send you on your way," Berns said.
A frown settling on her soft features, Fir'deim shakes her head briefly. She did not like dealing with these people, who were likely only a brief interference on her path as far as she was concerned. "We will not be leaving yet. Tell them to transfer what information they have on this sector. Specifically I need data of the surrounding areas that those insects may have gone to ground."
Returning to the communications system, the machine sends its reply to Captain Berns. "We require star charts and warp data for this and the surrounding systems. The War criminals are undoubtedly in this or a nearby sector judged by their last known trajectory. Please transfer the required documentation immediately."
He stood by, awaiting a reply from the other side. He turned to his comm. officer and navigator. "Be prepared to signal for reinforcements and to engage in evasive maneuvers should this meeting go south." They acknowledged, turning to their consoles, the comm. officer readying a distress beacon to be deployed for nearby reinforcements should they be necessary.
"Now," Berns said, returning to his visitors, "I'd like to assist you in your manhunt, but I need to know who you are before I just hand you the blueprints to my house. Understood?"
"The Captain Berns has denied our request, citing a lack of identification. They offer assistance once identification has been issued," the machine translates, roughly, choosing its words carefully. It had been built for diplomatic purposes, after all.
Fir'deim was getting frustrated with the on-going talks, but decided to remain civil enough for the time being. "We have told them once, but tell them again with full honors to our homeland- we are an Aramaean War ship from the glorious empire of Aramaea, and we will not be treated with such disrespect." The small woman's words resonate through the command bridge, each of the crew holding themselves slightly higher.
Returning its attention to the communicator, the Translator responds tactfully, "Identification was prior transmitted as the Aramaean War Fleet vessel Griffon. To elaborate, we hail from the Beautiful Empire of Aramaea. We request immediate cooperation to proceed, with respect."
"However, I feel I should advise you, not as a threatening gesture, but as a warning; if you have hostile intentions with us, you will not be met feebly. Tread carefully, and good luck with your mission." With that, he just awaited acknowledgement, content to sit in his chair and contemplate. "Contact nearby fleets and let them know these Armaeans are passing through. Advise caution, tell them to keep an eye open." The comm. officer replied "Yes, sir," and set to work.
"The Captain warns us that hostile intentions will be met with strength, and advises we tread carefully. He also wishes us good luck." It was the closest to an exact translation that it had come to a completely accurate translation thus far, but Fir'deim was clearly not pleased about this man that seemed to think so much of himself and his nation.
"We are not done yet. Tell them we wish to meet aboard their vessel. This is a people we have never encountered, and they must be shown who they are dealing with." Turning towards another communicator, she alerts Keld that he will be taking command while she makes her way to the teleporter bay.
Returning to the console once more, the Translator speaks. "Her eminence Captain Fir'deim M'hel would like to hold conference upon your vessel. Your space is new to us, and we wish to be met in person."
Standing by, he awaited them to board. "Keep weapons low, but ready," he ordered the Knights. It would be a few moments before they arrived on the ship, but he couldn't be too prepared. "Any sign of trouble, you are authorized to go weapons free. Try to minimize structural damage."
He awaited the new arrivals to come aboard, anxious. This had been an interesting day.
The Translator M.A was there, a sleek silver machine of vaguely humanoid look, except that it had no face- instead, only a silver bulbous appendage roughly the size and shape of some large canine but with no exacting features looks around the deck of the Vitality.
There was someone that looked Human enough, a man with trim black hair and a dour expression. While not expressly tall, he had a good deal of muscle mass to back up the snub nosed weapon he held at ease in his arms.
Then there was the largest of the team, a massive construct that did not seem to have a gender, but if it did it would be steroid pumped male. Apparently built of some dense alloy and painted a deep blue, with streaks of silver, its visible armament was composed of a twin-barreled cannon of some kind or another, and a large shield.
And in the center of the trio, the shortest by far, was another vaguely human reminiscent person, a woman. Fair skinned and holding herself highly, her gray uniform was dotted with various pendents and medals.
The four figures appear soundlessly in the middle of the Bridge, roughly speaking, as if from thin air. Not wasting but a moment to look around, the woman speaks in a soft voice, in a language that sounds lovely but is incomprehensible.
"Her Eminence, Captain Fir'deim M'hel," the silver machine intones while gesturing to the woman, "Greets you cordially and seeks your Captain."
"Pleased to meet you," Berns said calmly, a smile splayed across his face as he extended his hand to the visitors.
"Her Eminence greets you cordially," the translator says, releasing its firm grip on the Captain's hand. "And remarks to the oddity of species upon your vessel. She wishes to know if there is a better place in which we might hold conference."
The other two, the human and armature, simply look around at the collection on the ship. Both seemed indifferent to the culture, and relaxed enough for a boarding team amidst strange new people.
He understood that "Her Eminence" was quite annoyed as it were already; he had a knack for picking up on women's moods, no matter what language they were speaking. However, even though the ship had a more private place the could retire to, he didn't feel comfortable enough letting them scope out the ship in its entirety. Not yet, anyway.
No, the bridge was fine for now.
"Her Eminence Captain Fir'deim expresses her disappointment in a lack of proper facilities, but accepts that the less civil surroundings will suffice," the translator says in an almost apologetic tone.
"She wishes to express her interests in opening diplomatic relations with some species within your peoples, but lacks both the time and patience to begin such a transaction at the present time. She would thus suggest that in the interests of continued knowledge gain, we allow a transfer of crew to your ship, and vice-versa."
Gesturing around the bridge, the mechanized armature continues. "We would request the diversity of your species to learn of. Our crew is not as diverse, but we are sure there is much you could learn from our people from a social standpoint."
"If you are accepting, we will transfer the crew immediately so that we can both return to our objectives."
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