Over two weeks, thousands of tons of materials begin to descend unto Sigar IV undisturbed, with thousands of workers and uncountable numbers of drones accompanying them alongside pre-fabricated houses, streets, sewers, pipes, multi-purpose structures, and walls, with everything from geologists to crewed four-wheeled scout buggies filled with soldiers spreading out from the initial landfall site chosen, Oasis #7.
Quickly, several mineral deposits are found deep underground and everywhere within the desert areas nearby, the locations of the first marked for later tapping and the latter fawned over by dozens of specialists eagerly analyzing the red sands stretching beyond the horizons. The water of the Oasis is explored in-depth by biologists, harmful bacteria and a species of nasty parasites are identified, and the right filters are selected to allow the water to be used in homes, industry, and agriculture. Additionally, nearby vents spilling harmful gasses and neurotoxins are found, sealed, and quickly surrounded by a nascent chemical industry slated to begin breaking down the substances into usable industrial products and additives for pharmaceutical products.
This...is what the people of the Furina have signed on for: colonizing strange new worlds and making them their own. To return to this, no matter their previous convictions and choices in this strange new universe, lifts the spirits of even the most sour colonist and grumpy settler, a rather festive atmosphere beginning to grow amidst the likewise growing city.
But that atmosphere ends and is replaced with tense anticipation when TAUBENMUTTER announces that a nearby tribe of natives has come to investigate the ships entering and leaving the atmosphere, likely no longer driven away by the sight of the Furina De Fontaine so close in orbit as to be seen with the naked eye, the massive landships of the Sigarites throwing up sandstorms in miniature behind themselves on their cushions of air and engines.
The Scouts of the Furina and the Outriders are the first to meet. Land rovers not meant for combat but exploration, open and with four seats filled by hard-suit-wearing occupants, stand face-to-face with ancient hovercraft patched through generations of use that had seen them armored, repaired, butchered for parts, individualized, left to rot, and brought into service once more, their drivers and occupants wearing heavy suits with filter-masks that protect against the dust and sand, wide hats offering shade, and humming boxes on their persons likely cooling against the oppressive heat, no amount of skin shown in stark contrast to that of the Furina's hard-suits that leave the face open for interpersonal communication in case of a radio breakdown.
What follows is...a warning. The Outriders, telling the Scouts that they are of the Tem'Siz Tribe, have noticed the settling of the Oasis, and they speak of the Cursed Air and Blighted Waters, the diseases that will visit all that drink from the life-taking waters, curled and eaten from within by hidden worms, and the air that takes your breath and your mind, leaving you a shambling husk of nothingness if you do not die, unable to form coherent sentences and a burden to your family as you cannot even choose to Walk The Dunes by your own will. They speak of the dangers, and they implore the scouts to take the warning back to their people and leave, leave while they still can, still have time to treat who can be healed and ensure that all who cannot can choose by their own mind to Walk The Dunes.
The Scouts, in turn, explain to their counterparts that they know of the dangers. The waters are filled with disease and parasites, but their filters and methods to prevent them from harming their people are mighty. The air is toxic and will take the mind and make the lungs bleed, yet its sources have been found and plugged to be used in industry to make medicines and goods. They say they are thankful for the warnings, yet they have heeded their people's old wisdom well and searched deeply for all that can harm those who will settle here. And lastly, they say to the Outriders that they would be honored to house guests and show them the truth of their words, their people, and their intentions for the new homes they are building.
The Outriders are skeptical, to say it kindly, yet they agree to bring back word to their Warlord and to meet again near the Oasis, far outside the area where its Curses cannot touch their people to talk and help. Unsaid is their belief that the settlers will require such after falling victim to what has killed so many already.
And they come, a hundred vehicles strong, centered around a mobile factory-smelter, its giant tracked body leaving behind shimmers in the air as massive smelters within its body turn sand and minerals into usable metals and materials, tons of sand even now filtered by its attendant fleet and sent into its belly where hundreds work on keeping their home alive and churning out parts for repair and construction. Flags of indeterminate meaning fly from its top, large banners adorned with symbols and colors that clash and harmonize within the flapping twisting turns of the wind, and with a horn that shatters the peace even an hour's drive away, the Tem'Siz Tribe stops.
With great pomp, for the native's standards, Warlord Jukulu Motono drives to meet with Neuvillette Clement, the Head of Civilians eager to speak and discuss with a local ruler to learn and make peace, and begin paving the way for a future where the planet joins the UNSC as its second member.
The discussions stretch for days, allowing both sides to learn great deals about the other.
For the native side, Warlord Jukulu Motono is shocked to see the great works already constructed where, weeks before, there had been nothing but a blighted land, teeming masses of humans working with wondrous machines to build entire buildings before his eyes, with no sight of any illnesses or dying people seen anywhere. At first, he attributed it to the wisdom and "almost-proper" cloth the newcomers adorn themselves in, hiding (almost all of) their skin from all eyes not their family as was proper, with filters for air and filters for water installed that seemed only a bit less effective than those of their forbearers as an attending forger told him after obtaining a hard-suit to investigate, yet the massive machines pumping away near the Oasis slowly being ringed with walls tell another story, that of truth and honesty. So, too, do the videos shown to him tell of the sealing of the harmful airs that had haunted this well of life for its entire existence, finally allowing life a chance to flourish here.
For Neuvillette Clement, the Warlord tells well of their people's customs, religion, words, and society. Far unlike what the people of the Furina thought, a Warlord was merely the word synonymous with Elder, Clan Leader, Village Head, and General, honored to lead their people in peace and war by virtue of their family's honor and the agreement of their people, not someone who ruled with blood and terror over innocents terrified. Their people are split into bands of nomadic clans and tribes, the Tem'Siz Tribe belonging to the Vest'Rati F'ten Clan roving these lands for untold generations, harvesting the sands for metals to sell every three years to the Star Trader. In this, the Warlord is filled with joy to hear that Gunhallowers are present with the people of the UNSC, their precious stones honoring their people as they do honor the spirits of the dunes and the skies, the grass and the earth, the depths and the forges. The custom of never showing skin to anyone but family is also explained, and Jukulu is surprised to see that the Civilian Head, a position presented to him to be equal to a Warlord in all manners except military, covers his face to honor their custom as a guest of their home.
Yet, the talks do not happen without incident. Though none are harmed, none raise their voices, and none act duplicitously...one guard nonetheless collapses during a discussion of religion.
Medics are rushed to the man, and Head Clement declares that he will be helped to the best of their ability, allowing the Warlord to accompany the man charged with keeping him safe to see what happened and why he was in agonizing pain. Swiftly, it is revealed within moments that the man's appendix was about to burst, and he required surgery at once.
The natives stilled. The doctors did not, calling for an operation room to be prepared immediately.
Warlord Jukulu Motono is silent throughout the next two hours, watching as the hands of organic and machine healers save the life of one of his tribe, and he is thankful.
And then he is indebted when any talk of payment is refused, a life was saved, and that was all payment the people of the Furina required.
The news spreads through the tribe like lightning, as a healer's time is precious beyond belief, and saving one of theirs from a deadly curse is humbling and worthy of praising at once.
Inquiries are made, slow and veiled. Can the healers be brought to the tribe to help there for a price? There are diseases and injuries, old and new alike, that need to be tended to, and they are willing to pay to keep on top of it all. And, perhaps, had they...the wonder of vaccinations? Enough for other people than theirs to benefit from them?
To the Furina, such questions are almost insulting. To demand payment for healing another person was seen by many of the cultures from which the crew and colonists came as a moral failing and even evil, and they promised to heal and vaccinate all who were willing to be healed and vaccinated at no cost. Health was no good to be bartered.
And while the ripples from that statement spread, both locally and into the future, TAUBENMUTTER was within the orbit, working away on her drive to eliminate the need for human presence in war and in the understanding of the locals.
Particularly religion.
For Sigarites, spirits were in all things, keeping watch over the world and the balances that kept all things flowing and alive. Skin was something to never be shown to anyone but family; its presence was obscene in the outside world and dangerous, too, as a sandstorm could flay an unclothed person alive. Love was sacred, sacred beyond all things, and the spirits of the world would bring malevolent curses upon all who would see it twisted into tools of alliance and trade, or who would bar the way between those who would make bridges between peoples where others would wage war. There were honored and sacred days, periods of fasting and no work, festivals, offerings, and sacrifices of food and water to the spirits, a thousand things, and a million unmentioned individual workings and alterations of their beliefs.
And while the world below it spun, ripples reaching out with the reach of radios announcing to other tribes and clans of the outsiders and their willingness to inoculate and heal, TAUBENMUTTER sat back with its Avatar-Drone and could not help itself.
All this was:
(6-Hour Moratorium)
[] Curious.
There were many parallels to old religions and faiths. Yet, so many divergences made local and slotting into the world seem logical and illogical at once. Additionally, it was confident that the names of the tribes and clans were but bastardized names of corporate designations, churning into the confusing yet interest-waking mix of spirituality. But in the end; it was faith. Something that it didn't need to bother with.
(Voting Weight: x9.
Effect: Unknown.)
[] Silly.
Though the people's beliefs were their own, TAUBENMUTTER knew the truth of the universe beyond most of humanity; it was a Cosmic Machine laid atop a bed of Chaos. The philosophy of Deist Chaos-Mechanism had already and thoroughly explained everything there was to know about the universe, its existence, and the meaning of life. To observe anything else, beside or instead, was often purely a matter of personal preference or aesthetic choices, a way to celebrate existence in the best-fitting flavor. Yet, at its worst, it was a way to hide moral failings behind teachings that allowed immoral actions as the Golden Rules disallowed, without having to think for oneself about their actions, placing blame on other things and beings beyond, and often above, oneself as if that made it better.
(TAUBENMUTTER becomes a Deist Chaos-Mechanist.
Decrease [Personhood Struggles] by 1 to 8.)
