"Thank you for joining us TAUBENMUTTER," Captain Adams spoke to their resident AGI; a nod from him returned in equal measure, and a smattering of various greetings came from the Heads of the Furina De Fontaine before they all returned their attention to the Captain as TAUBENMUTTER's Avatar Drone silently settled at the end of the conference table. After all, it was technically, and legally, on break for the next 16 hours, having worked overclocked time to get every damaged part of the ship logged with a ticket placed into the maintenance crews and emergency repair teams currently stalking the bowels, guts, arteries, crawlspaces, and passageways of the vessel like cells in a body sent to perform repairs. "Now, before we turn toward the obvious matter of the unknown ship next to us, I'd like to hear about the status of your sections first, as the ship has not reacted in any visible way to our First Contact Protocols. Ms Matthews, if you'd be so kind as to start?"
"Of course," the small woman replied with a nod, her pastel blue hair bobbing underneath her cap with the Red Crystal at the front. "Despite the damages incurred in "The Event" as everyone is calling it," she said, a slight note of humor in her voice, "we have not received any notice of permanent casualties. The worst we have is a smattering of third-degree burns a crew of technicians received when a power bank overloaded and struck them in various places. We had to replace some limbs and begin printing new hearts for two of them, but aside from three other people requiring prosthetics or a new organ, it is mostly a flood of minor injuries that will be mostly healed within two weeks." She paused and took a breath, leaning back in her seat as she did so. "In that vein, I'd like to pre-emptively order scans for all crew and colonists for signs of heightened cancer rates, tumors, and internal cell destruction. A failure of the Alcubierre on that scale has not been even theorized to be
possible, and I fear for the worst while hoping that the best will come to pass."
"...begin preparations to do so within a week,
after the flood of injured have been treated. I will announce that the scans will happen later today to pre-empt unrest." Captain Adams said, gently tapping a reminder for himself into a tablet before him. "Speaking of unrest, how are the civilians holding up, Mister Clement?"
Neuvillette Clement sniffed in reply, flicking a finger on the table to bring up several different graphs on its surface, one set appearing before each Head and the Captain. "Spooked, confused, and frightened, with truly monumental speculations being drawn up on the shipnet regarding the alien vessel, but no panic so far. Aside from the injuries, the worst we have on our hands are complaints by a few people irritated at the chaos." That drew a mild chuckle from the group. "I also have received several inquiries from various groups and initiatives of the colony groups who wish to aid in the repair of the ship or assist our medical teams with their expertise. Should I point them toward you, Miss Matthews, Mr. Daniels?"
"No need for me; they would only be in the way. Our workload will be manageable within a day," Sigewinne Matthews replied, though Lyney Daniels nodded in assent.
"We have always need for more hands. TAUBENMUTTER has logged so many tickets that I fear we will be working on them for years to come."
"Then I shall do so. Other than that, there is nothing of note to the Heads or Captain from my end."
"Thank you. Mister Daniels, you said the damage would take years to repair?"
"Yes, though some of my colleagues would say otherwise in short-sightedness. We will be
mostly fully operational within two weeks and have the worst damage repaired in three days. The rest of the damages are minor things all over the ship. Loose cabling, scorched hull-plates, fuses that blew and need their entire systems checked, things like that which can be either ignored or have a quick repair job take mostly care of their issues. As you imagine, I'd like the ship we all live on, and expect to live on for the rest of our lives, to not be brought low from a classical "Want Of A Nail" scenario."
"Perfectly understandable. Please keep me updated; I will see what can be done to accelerate the repairs once TAUBENMUTTER is back on the clock," Adams said evenly, ignoring the stare from TAUBENMUTTER piercing him. However, before it could speak up, he continued on. "Now, Miss Ellis. Any problems?"
"No, sir. The boots and belts are ready for orders, and the police are reporting no attempts at taking advantage of the current situation by anyone. I'd be surprised if they did, seeing as all of us were screened to ensure nothing like that happened on our first voyage."
"I'm glad to hear that. Now, onto the ship..."
The Nabu-Class Parasite Craft (chosen instead of a Ta'xet class, as it was not designed to deliver troops to another ship, only massive amounts of energy) slowly crawled toward the Alien Vessel, its spindly construction looking like a bacteriophage with its legs fully extended, alongside two bulbous craft anchored to its sheat between its head and legs. They were, most likely, Parasite Craft like the Nabu or Ta'xet, and had been the source of much speculation and attention after an open hatch had been spotted right underneath a
painted symbol that was present on all three ships. Was it religious? A sign of the political entity these vessels belonged to? Had it some lesser meaning, like military unit or civilian company? Was it some manner of writing? Well, that matter was for the smart people back in the Fontaine, not for the grunts sitting in the Nabu-Class crawling toward the ship.
Their mission was to enter the ship and see why nobody had answered the call, not to speculate about the nature of the symbols. Or about the radio signal the vessel had begun to pick up from the nearest star 3.4 LY away.
That didn't mean the grunts refrained from doing so.
It didn't mean their sergeants refrained from slapping them upside the head if they did so in their hearing range.
"Gentlebeings of all persuasions, from tea drinkers to bean juice slurpers," the pilot's voice cut through the low-level chatter in the cargo hold, "we will begin docking in one minute. Make ready, and then get the hell off my ship. Bag an Ayy for me if they turn out hostile, will ya?" Laughter followed, but that was quickly shut down by the Major in charge stomping down and getting their soldiers ready for a sweep of the ship.
Something greatly aided by their:
[][Technology] Drone Hive Intelligences
Interlinked Artificial Intelligences that are, individually, dumber than bread, but, together, can work wonders, especially if placed into drones of various sizes. From pollinating arti-bees to gun-bearing hover drones flying security and to battle.
[][Technology] Gravity-Plates
Though the complexity, and thus needs and cost for production, of artificial gravity generation rises exponentially, making anything more than 0.8G unfeasible, having any sort of gravity within the vacuum of space beyond a gravity well is beyond precious. Don't expect them to be used outside spaceships and EVA suits.
[][Technology] Mobile Suits
Six-meter-tall oversized power armor, previously extensively used in the construction of orbital facilities and ships, most notably the Fontaine, they were quickly adapted into war machines of surprising efficacy thanks to rapid technological advancements. They haven't replaced the tank; they are six-meter-tall targets after all, but they have burrowed into their own niche in humanity's order of battle. (This starts a sub-turn to decide your Mobile Suit Doctrine/Appearances.)
Two soldiers stood, side by side, on a gantry, their helmet lights piercing through the atmosphere-less hangar they stood within.
"Frank?" One asked.
"Mary?" The other replied.
"What the fuck am I looking at?"
[][Find] "...Trashcans with legs?"
Gain: 20 Royal Urbies.
[][Find] "...very tall Mobile Suits?"
Gain: 25 Mechs of various configurations and repairs.
[][Find] "...the Mechs of Camelot?"
Gain: 4 Dragons and 1 Black Knights in Melee Configuration.