Fires of First Contact (2/2)
Elliot’s eyes widened as he stared at the DSS's visual feed. A large ship had materialized near the alien station, seemingly emerging from some form of faster-than-light travel. Drones swarmed out of the station immediately, engaging the new arrival, but it was a futile effort. Their weapons had no effect, deflected harmlessly by what appeared to be a powerful energy shield.
Those drones didn’t stand a chance.
Protocol was explicit: Elliot was not permitted to interfere. This could be part of a larger conflict—a war, a political dispute—one that humanity couldn’t afford to stumble into. Intervening risked dragging Earth into battles it couldn’t win, alliances it couldn’t predict. Elliot clenched his fist, shaking his head as his hand moved to engage the MSD at full power.
“Protocol be damned,” he muttered. ‘What kind of message would it send if humanity did nothing?’
Deep down, Elliot knew this wasn’t his reason for acting, just a justification. He didn’t really care though. He felt a kinship with the mysterious aliens he had been communicating with, he wasn’t going to let them die.
The TFS Ishtar roared into action as the MSD broke the laws of the universe. Her mass now equal to the square root of negative one, she rapidly accelerated beyond the speed of light. Elliot’s mind was racing almost as fast as his ship; the Ishtar was well-armed, but he had no idea if her weapons could penetrate the alien ship’s shields. As he neared the station, his scanner feed updated. The alien ship’s main weapon fired, releasing two plasma bolts that homed in and struck an important looking part of the station.
Elliot stared, dumbfounded. Their weapons were centuries ahead of anything he had.
“Their weapons…” he whispered, his thoughts coalescing into a risky plan.
When the Ishtar arrived at the station and the MSD deactivated, the battle was already over. The station's drones had been annihilated, and the alien ship was already swivelling its main weapon toward the Ishtar. Elliot wasted no time, slamming the thrusters to maximum. The Ishtar surged forward, her sub-light engines roaring to life.
Twin plasma bolts erupted from the alien vessel, screaming through the void toward the Ishtar. Elliot braced himself, waiting until the last moment before activating the topside emergency thrusters. These small chemical propellants, strategically placed across the hull, would react violently when mixed, practically exploding a ship onto a new trajectory. The Ishtar shook as the explosive force shoved it downward, shaking the entire cockpit. Elliot’s harness strained to keep him in place as the plasma bolts blazed overhead, close enough to heat the air inside the cabin.
Sweat beaded on Elliot’s forehead from both the heat and the stress as he checked the rear cameras. The plasma bolts streaked onward briefly, then curved back, locked onto his ship.
His attention returned forward. The alien vessel loomed larger now, its silhouette dominating his view more and more as the Ishtar got closer to this mysterious foe. Elliot killed the thrusters and keyed a series of buttons. All over the hull, panels slid back and weapons emerged.
As the weapons extended into position, Elliot turned the Ishtar around; rotating her nose opposite to her trajectory. Without propulsion, the ship was carried onward by her momentum. Now moving backward, the Ishtar passed beneath the alien vessel.
The moment his ship cleared the enemy's underbelly, Elliot engaged both the main and ventral thrusters. The main thrusters fought to negate the Ishtar’s existing momentum, while the ventral thrusters pushed her upward. The Ishtar came to a standstill a few hundred meters from her foe, who was now directly between the Ishtar and the plasma bolts that were pursuing her.
It was a gamble—but it was the only shot he had.
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The plasma bolts collided with the pirate ship. The ship’s shields flared bright white, struggling to withstand the impact before collapsing under the weight of its own weapon.
The weapons that had emerged from the Ishtar roared to life, two large guns on top of the ship unleashing a storm of relentless firepower. The barrage struck the pirate ship’s hull with merciless brutality, tearing through its armour. Sensors made to collect research data on a gravitational anomaly struggled to track the scale of the onslaught as each successive impact hammered deeper into the pirate vessel.
Trevok froze as he watched, his eyes wide in disbelief. “What are these...?” he muttered, trying to comprehend the scale of the destruction unfolding before him. The pirate ship’s shields had already failed against its own plasma weapon, and now its hull was being torn apart with relentless precision. Suddenly, dozens of missiles launched from five different locations all over the Ishtar’s hull, disappearing into the hole that had been torn open.
“Reactor breach!” Hessara’s voice rang out moments later, sharp and panicked. Her eyes were fixed on her screen, her feathers bristling with a mix of awe and horror. The pirate ship seemed to collapse in on itself before being consumed by a massive fireball. A violent explosion ripped through the vessel, its remnants scattering into the void as the shockwave rocked the station.
Krallvek’s claws gripped the edges of his console, trying to keep himself stable as the entire station shook. “One ship did this!?” His words held a mix of disbelief and cautious admiration.
Trevok’s tail flicked in awe, still processing what he had witnessed. “An explorer...” he muttered, his voice low with a mix of awe and confusion. “They said they were an explorer. And yet... this?”
Hessara’s gaze softened slightly, the initial shock fading into something more reflective. “They saved us...” she said quietly as she watched the debris of the pirate ship drifting through space.
Trevok nodded slowly, his gaze shifting back to the now silent Ishtar. “They’re more than just an explorer, must be,” he said, his tone lined with curiosity. “I think we were about to initiate communications before those pirates arrived, we should do so now.”
Krallvek quickly tapped a sequence of buttons on the main console, the station’s communication systems flickering. The pirate attack had damaged the station’s main communication array, but the short-range systems were still operational. He attempted to contact the Ishtar multiple times, but no response came.
The trio fell into a tense silence, their attention still fixed on the Ishtar. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, the ship began to shift. Slowly, deliberately, it turned and began to glide toward the largest landing pad on the station.
“That’s the landing pad,” Trevok said, his voice quiet but concerned. “Could it have been damaged in the explosion?”
Krallvek studied the ship’s movement closely. There was no mistaking it—the Ishtar was injured, but it seemed determined to land. He let out a low hiss, his claws tapping thoughtfully against the console. “We’ll have to prepare. When it lands, we make contact. And we need to be ready for whatever comes next.”
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The sudden explosion had hit like a battering ram. Elliot guided the wounded Ishtar carefully toward what he believed to be a landing pad. The massive ship, weighing over 1800 tonnes and measuring over 160 meters long, was already a challenge to manoeuvre. But the damage she had sustained made every movement even more sluggish and unpredictable. Her thrusters were compromised, and the controls seemed less responsive than usual. His hand hovered over the thruster controls, making small, cautious adjustments as the ship crept forward, her movements stiff and uncooperative.
Finally, with a groan from the ship’s overburdened frame, the landing gears touched down with a soft clunk, magnetizing to the surface. Elliot exhaled, letting out a sigh of relief as he leaned back in his seat.
He removed his helmet and wiped away the blood from his broken nose, one of the many results of the shockwave. He must’ve hit something rather important to cause such a large explosion. Elliot glanced at the console to his right, scrolling through the flashing warning messages that filled the display.
- Mass Shift Drive: Inoperable.
- Communications Systems: Inoperable.
- Life Support: Damaged but stable.
- Power Generator: Damaged but stable, capacity down to 50%.
- Hull integrity: 58%
- Data Storage: Compromised.
Elliot’s eyes went wide at that last one. He quickly tried to access the exploration data he had gathered only to find that it all had been lost or corrupted beyond repair... Whatever he had hit in that alien ship must have released an electromagnetic pulse when it blew up.
He exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples before shutting down all the non-essential systems he could. Thrusters, weapons, scanners, hull lights, countless systems went offline one by one. The Ishtar quieted with each deactivation until only the power generator, life support, gravity systems, internal lighting, and door controls remained operational.
The stillness that followed was a sharp contrast to the chaos and violence of just moments ago. It brought with it a sobering reminder of how close he’d come to being obliterated. Yet, as battered as the ship was, the Ishtar had endured. The reinforcements and upgrades he’d installed—designed to withstand the unpredictable challenges of exploration—had held up under unimaginable strain. Without them, he wouldn’t have survived. Elliot resolved to try and recover the data later, but for now he had aliens to meet.
Unfastening his harness, Elliot stood and stretched stiffly, wincing as he felt the tension in his muscles. He headed to the small bathroom compartment, retrieving the first-aid kit to set about treating his broken nose. The quick but crude work stung, but it was enough for now. The aliens were likely on their way to meet him, so he cleaned himself up as best as he could, splashing water on his face to clear the lingering blood and sweat.
With his nose bandaged and the first-aid kit stowed, Elliot began donning his environment gear over his flight suit. There was no guarantee the air on the alien station would be breathable, and he wasn’t about to take unnecessary risks. The suit’s air supply would give him up to 12 hours without needing to recharge back on the Ishtar. He wiped the last streaks of blood from the inside of his helmet’s glass faceplate before sealing it in place.
Pausing briefly at the airlock, he hesitated as the weight of what was about to happen hit him. For all the preparation, all the communications exchanged, this was the moment of true first contact—face to face. With his communication systems down, Elliot could only hope the aliens had managed to figure out the language data he had sent before the attack. Taking a deep breath, he pressed the button to cycle the airlock.
The ramp extended, and the door opened. From the threshold, Elliot spotted three distinct alien figures waiting for him on the walkway that connected the landing pad to their station. Exhaling slowly, he steadied his nerves and stepped forward to meet them.
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The trio watched as a large figure walked down the ramp that had extended from the Ishtar. Recalling some of the contents of the data they had received, Hessara raised one of her wings and waved it back and forth. The figure paused for a moment before reciprocating the gesture, then resumed its approach. As it came closer, they could see more and more through the transparent plate on the front of what looked to be its helmet. Its skin was a beige tone, with what looked like black fur on top of its head and shorter black fur along the bottom of its face.
Krallvek stepped forward cautiously as he activated his translator. “Greetings,” he said. The device rendered his words into the language transmitted to them earlier. “We are researchers aboard this station.”
The figure paused again a few paces away, seemingly recognizing the familiar language. “Hello,” it replied in a voice the trio recognized from their earlier communications. “I presume you are the ones I’ve been in contact with?”
Seeing the being in person—a lifeform from an unknown species who had risked itself to save them—was both humbling and surreal.
“Yes,” Krallvek said, inclining his head slightly. “I am Krallvek Toinar. These are my colleagues, Hessara Quaril and Trevok Dal’nar. We are researchers aboard this station.”
Hessara ruffled her feathers lightly, her gaze switching between the figure and the massive ship it had emerged from. “You are... Elliot Cain?” she asked hesitantly, though the answer was already clear.
The figure nodded. “That’s correct. Explorer and pilot of the TFS Ishtar. It’s good to finally meet you in person.”
“It’s an honour,” Trevok said, his voice measured and firm, his posture straight as he regarded the human with focused attention. “Your actions saved us from certain doom. You... went beyond what any obligation required.”
Elliot waved a hand dismissively, his demeanour calm yet approachable. “Well, what would it have said about humanity if I just left you guys to die?” He chuckled briefly, though his expression quickly turned more serious. “That said, I have to ask... What was that all about? Did I just drag humanity into some kind of interstellar war?”
Krallvek shook his head firmly, his tone resolute. “No. The ones who attacked us were pirates—independent raiders seeking resources. They act for their own gain, not on behalf of any government or state.”
Hessara nodded in agreement. “Pirates operate independently, with no ties to the major galactic powers. Your intervention saved us and will not escalate into larger conflicts.”
Elliot exhaled, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Good. I was somewhat worried I sparked some kind of galactic incident.”
Hessara’s feathers flared slightly in concern as she looked at the massive ship behind Elliot. “The Ishtar... Was it damaged by the reactor breach?”
Elliot hesitated for a moment, glancing back at his ship. “Was that what I hit?” He chuckled softly. “She’s seen better days. Comms and FTL are completely down and about half the systems are damaged.” He paused before adding, “She can fly but she won’t even get close to a fraction of the speed of light.” He sighed, “I’m stuck in this system until something changes. Do you have a way to call for help?”
The trio exchanged uneasy glances. Krallvek’s ears twitched in frustration before he answered, “Our long-range communications array was destroyed in the attack. Only short-range transmissions are possible now.”
Elliot frowned, nodding slowly. “That’s... not ideal. Someone will come looking for you eventually, though, right?”
Hessara gave a small nod. “Yes. If we fail to report in, a vessel will be dispatched to investigate. But it may take some time.”
Trevok’s claws flexed as he considered this. “Perhaps I could assist in repairing your communications systems... If we can restore enough of their functionality, we might be able to reach your people.”
Elliot’s expression softened; his gratitude evident. “That’d be a huge help. But for now, I think we all need to take a moment to catch our breath.”
Krallvek nodded, his tail flicking slightly in acknowledgment. “We will return to the station shortly to assess the damage to the station and prepare for what comes next.”
Elliot glanced back at the Ishtar, its battered hull reflecting the stark lights of the landing pad. “We don’t know if human life is compatible with your guys’ atmosphere, so I’ll stay with my ship for now. Feels like the safest option, given the circumstances.”
Hessara’s feathers shifted, and she regarded him for a moment before inclining her head. “If you require assistance, you can find us within the station. For now, I agree that rest seems like the best course.”
With that, the trio began making their way back toward the station, and Elliot turned back toward the Ishtar. Once back in the station, Hessara let out a deep sigh. The trio was quiet as they all processed what had happened.
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The past two months had been a whirlwind of activity. Elliot and Trevok had managed to repair the Ishtar’s FTL communications just enough to send messages, though it couldn’t receive any. He had sent a detailed report of First Contact to Earth, someone in the Terran Federal government must have had a rather exciting day when they were the one to receive the report. Meanwhile, he and the alien researchers discovered that the station’s atmosphere was compatible with human life, allowing him to roam the station and get to know the aliens he would come to consider his friends.
Elliot had taught his new friends how to play poker, though he was starting to regret it. Just as he was about to reveal his hand—a disastrously weak one—humanity made its grand entrance. A small fleet of Terran ships entered the system, bringing a small army of delegates, officials, diplomats, scientists, and more. It was a spectacular sight, but no one at the table noticed. Krallvek had called Elliot's bluff, and the Ixar had one hell of a poker face. Elliot muttered a curse under his breath as he laid down his losing hand. The Ixar’s amber eyes gleamed as he swept up the small pile of makeshift chips with a calm, deliberate grace.
“Bad luck,” Krallvek said, his tone as dry as the desert.
Hessara trilled a laugh, her melodic voice cutting through the tension. “I warned you he’d see through you, Elliot. You might be able to fool me and Trevok, but him?” She leaned back, her plumage shifting with the motion.
Trevok gave a rumbling chuckle, his tail flicking behind him. “Perhaps humans weren’t made for subtlety.”
Elliot opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a beep from his comm device. The fleet had established contact.
In the following days, the system became a hub of activity. During a tense meeting with representatives from the Terran Federation, Elliot had faced significant backlash for his decision to violate first-contact protocols. Intervening in a conflict he had known nothing about had put humanity at risk of being dragged into a war. But when the diplomats realized the positive galactic attention his actions had brought, the criticism quickly died down. In fact, Elliot’s heroism was becoming something of a diplomatic boon.
The research station—once an underfunded dump only held together by the diligent work of the three scientists it housed—was now teeming with construction crews and equipment, being fixed up and renovated as delegations arrived from across the galaxy. The Interstellar Assembly and the Coalition of Worlds sent envoys, each eager to convince the Terran Federation to join their respective factions. Meanwhile, officials from the Galactic Community began identifying all systems within 100 lightyears of Sol. These would immediately fall under Terran jurisdiction in accordance with Galactic Common-law.
In the meantime, the Ishtar had been brought aboard a larger Terran ship and repaired, after which Elliot had landed her back at the station. Both to go see his friends again, and because delegations from three member states of the Assembly had insisted on meeting Elliot personally, on account of him having saved one of each of their people.
The Sylvaris Conclave, Hessara’s homeland, had presented Elliot with a delicate wind chime crafted from their native crystalline alloys. The chime, a common feature in Sylvaris homes, produced soft, harmonious tones whenever it swayed. It was a symbol of connection and creativity, embodying the Foryn belief in finding beauty in life’s quiet moments.
The Vorynxal Accord, Krallvek’s people, had offered a small meditation sphere carved from sharaite, a material known for its durability and tranquil sheen. It had been inscribed with a simple yet elegant pattern symbolizing balance, a reflection of Ixar philosophy.
The Korrhask Dominion, home to Trevok's people; the Drathakii, had given Elliot a small, intricately crafted figurine. A representation of a Drathak artisan in mid-creation, chiselling a fine sculpture. The figurine was made of a rare, polished stone native to the Dominion. Each detail, from the determined stance of the sculptor to the delicate patterns in the stone, reflected the Dominion’s reverence for mastery and craftsmanship. It was a symbol of dedication to one’s craft and an embodiment of Drathak values—commitment, precision, and a lifetime of effort poured into perfecting one’s chosen pursuit.
Each of these gifts had been given with a decent amount of ceremony around it, and Elliot had to do far more politicking than he liked during those ceremonies. The meaning of the gifts was not lost on him however, and his promise to take good care of them was one he intended to keep. For now, Elliot wanted to return home for a bit. Having lost two and a half years of work, he needed to reset and reevaluate. Having said his goodbyes, Elliot strapped himself into the pilot seat of the Ishtar and keyed the launch sequence. The repaired Ishtar gracefully lifted off the platform and retracted her landing gears smoothly. Elliot looked out to the observation deck of the station he had called home for the past few months. He saw Krallvek, Hessara, and Trevok standing there, watching the Ishtar leave. Elliot quickly waved to them one more time, though he knew they couldn’t see him through his tinted canopy. The Ishtar carefully left the station and flew into open space, accelerating away from the station. Once the Ishtar was a few kilometres from the station, Elliot began configuring the MSD when he suddenly received a message.
“Heard you lost some data... Sincerely, your friends,” the message said. A massive file was attached. Elliot began downloading the file to his systems, and his eyes went wide when he realized what he had been given. Exploration data on every single system in the Sylvaris Conclave, the Vorynxal Accord, and the Korrhask Dominion; thousands of systems, what would have been centuries of work for any explorer, was now stored on his ship.
Elliot pulled himself out of his shock and quickly typed up a final message to send in response. When this had all started, Elliot had transmitted a simple binary string as a way of saying “Hello, can you understand me?”. This time he sent the exact same binary string but inverted. The exact opposite of that greeting; a final, symbolic goodbye. He would make sure to meet his friends again, but for now he had exploration data to turn in.